Sarah WalkerBroken Beyond Repair The Challenge
by jaytoyz
Summary: Sarah loses Chuck-Season 1, Ep.2-What would happen if the powers that be decided Sarah was compromised and decide to 'extract' Chuck without telling her...A Challenge, an Experiment, an Invitation to play in this new AU...Charah eventually.Help Wanted!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Here's something new and a challenge…this idea has been rattling around in my head for a little while and I finally decided to drop it here…and I'm inviting anyone who thinks they might have a chapter or a one shot for this story to send it to me at jaytoyz (at) …I'd love to hear from anyone who might like to collaborate…here's your chance to play in the sandbox of a new AU…use any of the existing characters or make your own, my only hope is that we'll get Sarah and Chuck together…drop me a story idea or an entire chapter…any contributions that are used will be glaringly acknowledged…remember, Chuck or any of the characters in the official 'Chuckverse' are not ours and no one will be making any money from this…I won't be using a beta but anyone who wants to play is more than welcome to…the future of this story is entirely dependant on contributions because I'm gonna go play with some of my other stories…I won't ignore this, just want to see if anyone else would like to 'play…hope to hear from y'all.. **JT**

**Sarah Walker - Broken Beyond Repair? - Chapter 1**

A slight breeze rustled through the tree, strong enough to rattle the leaves but lacking the strength to dislodge any of them. Standing next to the tree, Sarah Walker watched the small group of people who had gathered, under overcast skies, to say goodbye to a man who'd died much too young.

She'd been invited to join the family and friends for the graveside service but just couldn't bring herself to stand with them, knowing that it was her failure as an agent that had led to his death.

She looked down at the fading bruises that circled her wrists, reminders of the cuffs that Dr. Zarnow had used to bind her while he attempted to force her to reveal the identity of 'patient zero'. She'd wanted to laugh at the feeble attempts to make her talk but thinking of that night always led to thinking of the out of control helicopter that had plunged into the bay, missing the dock that had served as a landing pad, taking her asset into the frigid waters and out of her life.

She still couldn't believe that the doctor had gotten the drop on her after she'd fled Casa Bartowski, tranqing her and tossing her into his trunk before Casey or Chuck could offer any help. Her first memory after fighting her way back to consciousness was worrying about the curly headed nerd who'd come to mean a great deal to her in such a short time. Looking around her, she almost breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was alone because that meant that her charge was safe.

The torture had been rushed and ineffectual, a stun gun doing little to encourage her to talk. The 'Doctor' had just picked up a pair of pliers and was advancing towards her with the promise of removing a fingernail or two when his phone started to ring. Fumbling the pliers from one hand to the other, he'd pulled his cel-phone from his pocket and after looking at the display, he'd actually excused himself before wandering away from her.

Moments after the 'Doctor' had disappeared, chuck had materialized at her side and she found herself torn between her desire to yell at him for putting himself at risk and her desire to kiss him senseless, a feeling that confused her because she'd known him for less than a week. The tape on her mouth prevented her from doing anything except mumbling until Chuck pulled it away while quietly pleading with her to 'not be mad' while his eyes searched hers for some sign that she wasn't pissed at him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Chuck?"

"Um…rescuing you?"

"Where's Casey?" Sarah asked while Chuck's eyes seemed to drift down from her own, settling on the front of the damp, tank-top that was clinging to her breasts, clearly showing her bodies reaction to the slight chill in the air. "Chuck! Focus! Up here!" she added, fighting the urge to smile when she took note of the blush that bloomed on his cheeks when he realized he'd been caught staring at her tits.

"Right, I…uh" Chuck stammered as he looked upwards to the cuffs that held Sarah's wrists. "What can I do?"

"Find me something to pick the lock on these cuffs. Preferably before the 'Doctor' returns to torture me some more"

Um, like what?" Chuck asked after doing a quick inspection of the immediate area and finding nothing.

"A thin piece of metal, like the underwire in a bra"

"Um, Sarah, you're not wearing a…"

"I know I'm not wearing a bra, Chuck. I said like the underwire…"

"Yeah, I get it but I'm not seeing anything, uh, wait a minute" Chuck said while moving quickly towards the table that was against the wall almost ten feet away and then bending down to pick something up off of the floor. "How about this?" he asked, rushing back to her, holding a small piece of wire in his fingers.

"It'll have to do" Sarah replied and cocked her head when she heard sounds from the direction that the doctor had disappeared in earlier. "Hurry up, Chuck. I think the 'Doctor' is coming back. Put the wire in my hand, put the tape back on my mouth and then get the hell out of here."

"But…"

"Chuck, just do what I asked, please"

"Ok" he answered and then moved quickly away after giving Sarah the piece of wire and placing the duct tape back over her mouth.

Sarah watched as Dr. Zarnow appeared moments after Chuck had disappeared into the shadows, wanting to laugh when the older man retrieved the pliers he'd dropped earlier and tried to give her a menacing look which made him appear constipated, not threatening.

"So, agent Walker, any guess's how many fingernails I'll have to pull before you decide to tell me the identity of patient X?" he asked after ripping the duct tape from Sarah's mouth.

"Oh please" Sarah laughed back at him, hoping the man would be stupid enough to get close enough to attempt to carry out his threat.

"Or maybe…" he said as he walked over to the table, dropped the pliers and picked up section of pipe, "…we'll try this" he hissed before stepping back to her and swinging the makeshift weapon at her right knee, the dull thud followed immediately by a whimper as Sarah tried to hold back the scream that tried to make it's way out.

"Sarah!" Chuck gasped, giving away his position when he stepped into the light with a look of concern on his face.

"Ah, 'patient X', I assume" the doctor said with a smirk before pulling a pistol from his jacket pocket and aiming it at Chuck.

"Run, Chuck!" Sarah yelled and watched as the curly haired nerd seemed to freeze, torn between following her order and trying to find some way to help. Before he could decide, a dart appeared in his neck after a nearly silent 'puft' sound indicated that the tranq gun had been fired. Turning a confused look towards her, she watched as his eyes rolled up into his head and he dropped to the ground. Before she could say anything else, the doctor moved to stand in front of her, taping her mouth shut once again.

"Well, it seems that my business here is done" he said smugly, pulling his phone from his pocket and, after tapping a quick sequence , spoke into it, telling whoever was at the other end of the call to 'get in here and give me a hand' before ending the call.

Sarah struggled against the cuffs, ignoring the pain that flared from her knee whenever she moved. She'd dropped the piece of wire Chuck had handed her when the crushing blow had been delivered to her knee and she tried frantically to shake herself loose from the hook the cuffs had been looped over. While trying to slip a hand out of one of the cuffs, she watched as a man approached from the shadows and, without a word, throw Chuck over his shoulder.

"The chopper's waiting" the big man said.

"Let's go" Doctor Zarnow replied, giving Sarah a quick look and then dismissing her before turning and following the big man out of the building.

Sarah Walker watched helplessly as her asset was carried off, shaking with anger and wishing she could scream, wondering what the hell had happened to John Casey.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Major John Casey, special agent for the NSA, was not having a good day. It had started with a call from his boss, General Diane Beckman, who had informed him that Bryce Larkin's body had vanished and no one seemed to be able to figure out what the hell was going on. When Casey had pointed out that 'at least the traitor was dead', the General had corrected him, pointing out that with no body, they had no proof that he was dead, leaving the very real possibility that the man who'd stolen the intersect might still be alive. The General had gone on to order Casey to stick even closer to Bartowski than he had been.

"Crap" Casey had muttered under his breath, glad for once that his boss had an annoying habit of disconnecting a finished phone call with no warning and she hadn't been there to hear the displeasure in his voice.

The rest of the day had been just as bad. First came the news that Dr. Zarnow had been vaporized in an attack that seemed to point towards the NSA. He'd warned the moron to stay away from Walker, not really expecting the kid to do as told but hoping he might surprise him and follow his orders.

As expected, the asset had ignored him and when he'd gone to speak to Walker, to find out what the nerd had said, they'd ended up at each others throats and she'd very nearly handed him his ass. If a group of the little perv,s that seemed to flock to the store since Walker had started working there, hadn't shown up, he might very well have gotten his ass kicked.

He'd spent the rest of the day in a pissed off funk and then, to top it off, he'd had to crash Bartowski's sister's dinner party as part of his intensified babysitting. Less than ten minutes into the dinner, after the moron had managed pull off an impromptu magic trick and piss off Walker when her gave her soufflé a shower after it managed to combust, Walker had excused herself and left. He and Chuck had followed her out and been surprised to see a very much alive Doctor tranq her and speed away after tossing her unconscious body into his trunk.

Before they could pursue the doctor, he'd managed to get tranqed and, while fighting off the effects, had somehow managed to find the warehouse where the CIA agent was being held. Leaving the asset in the car with orders to stay put, he'd been about to enter the building when his phone vibrated. Pausing to check, he cursed silently when the ID let him know that the General was on the line and toyed with the idea of ignoring the call.

"Yes ma'am" he'd answered and then his day really went to shit. The powers that be had decided that Bartowski was at risk and Sarah Walker was now considered compromised due to the unknown status of her former partner and lover. When her questionable status with Bryce Larkin was added to the strong interest she'd seemed to have developed in Bartowski, it was decided that the asset needed to be brought in.

When Casey had questioned the timing, admitting that Walker was currently being held and he was about to attempt to offer her aid, he'd been informed that a second team had been performing overwatch duties since that morning and a plan was in place to move the asset. He was ordered to go ahead and help Agent Walker and to not worry about the asset because the second team had already set an extraction plan into motion. Before he could ask any questions, the call ended and he found himself swearing at his phone.

After shaking his head and taking a couple of deep breaths, he slipped the phone into his pocket and quietly slipped into the warehouse through the back door it had taken him several minutes to find and then open. Working his way through the aisles of shelving, he finally found Walker, hanging from a hook by the cuffs on her wrists.

After doing a quick scan of the area, he crept close and then pulled the tape from her mouth and then, after wrapping an arm around her waist, lifted up until she could free herself from the hook. He'd lowered her to the ground and pulled the tape from her mouth, watching as the blond started limping towards the exit on the far side of the building.

"C'mon, Casey" she called back over her shoulder, "Zarnow has Chuck and a helicopter waiting for them out this door"

"Right behind you" he answered and moved to catch up, wondering just how bad Walker's knee was and, more importantly, what was actually waiting for them on the other side of the door.

He stepped through the door and almost ran into Walker who was standing just outside, her eyes locked on the helicopter that was a couple of hundred feet in the air and seemed to be in trouble. Smoke was pouring from the engine compartment and the craft seemed to be losing altitude. Before he could move, there was a blinding flash and the helicopter, now totally engulfed in flames, plunged into the bay, missing the wharf, that had been used as a landing pad, by less than ten feet.

He watched in stunned silence as Special Agent Sarah Walker, after calling the asset's name in a hoarse whisper, took a step forward and then collapsed like a puppet who's strings had been cut. He was about to step forward to offer what assistance he could when his phone vibrated. Pulling it from his pocket, he read the text and then deleted it before returning the device to his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward and knelt down to check on his soon to be ex-partner, not surprised to hear the sound of rapidly approaching sirens. The powers that be already moving to begin the work that would be required to explain the tragic passing of a young man who'd died in a single car accident that was being staged nearly twenty miles away.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Special Agent Sarah Walker tightened her grip on the cane she'd been using since being released from the hospital, the wrapping around her knee making it very difficult to walk with out it. Reaching up with her free hand, she wiped the tear from her cheek and turned to leave after taking one last look at the group that was gathered around the grave site. Limping towards the black suburban that waited for her, she offered a silent goodbye and wondered what the hell she was going to do now.

**A/N: 2 **I say it again, I'd really love to hear from you and I don't need reviews(although they are certainly nice)…you can send me story ideas or finished chapters at jaytoyz _(_at)

…anyone who wants to join the fun will be acknowledged for any contributions. Remember, you can do anything you want with anyone you want…except for Chuck and Sarah…anything you do with them has to help feed into the happy ending that will eventually come…chapters or one-shots are welcome…any chapters submitted will be published and then we'll let the fans vote on their inclusion in the story.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **This is a possible second chapter for this story. This tale is , for me, an experiment...I'm completely open to any ideas and/or contributions that anyone might like to make. Someone pointed out that this seems like it could be heavy and I guess it is but I promise that I will be bringing Chuck and Sarah together before this is over...it just may take a little bit. As I explained when I posted the first chapter, anyone is welcome and encouraged to come and play in this 'sandbox' and any and all contributions will be acknowledged. I'd really like to hear from you and I'll remind anyone that you can drop me a private note using my author name at that yahoo place. This was first posted over at my blog and I'll be doing the same with future stuff so if there's any interest go to Jaytoyz:Pope Of Nothing...and Loving It over at the same place that is the home to much better blogs like Castle Inanity and Ninjatime...among others. This is much shorted than my usual posts but, as I said, it's an experiment. Let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who took the time to review the first chapter and to Aerox and ygbsm who both commented and offered words of hope over at that blog thingie. **JT**

I don't own Chuck or any of the characters featured in the tv show. I'm not making any money doing this and all errors contained within are completely mine.

Thanks, Jim.

**Sarah Walker - Broken Beyond Repair? - 2-ish**

Agent Sarah Walker sat with her back just inches away from the back of the couch while she stared out of the one window in the waiting area. She watched the clouds as they drifted across the brilliantly blue sky and almost let herself wonder what a certain nerd might tell her the shapes looked like but she blinked once and then twice, shutting down the avenue that had become an all too familiar street in her thoughts since...'no' she told herself, blinking again and choosing to drop her gaze to her hands. Her fingers were intertwined and her hands gently rested on the handle of the cane that had become her constant companion since...'No!' she chastised herself again.

Her peripheral vision was keeping her constantly aware of everything around her and she knew that nothing could change without her being aware of it. Her spy senses, thanks to years of training and practical use were sharpened to such a degree that they bordered on, and often crossed over into hyper vigilance. She knew that the of the six magazines that were spread out on the coffee table in front of her, three were seriously out of date, two had been brought in by the middle aged woman who sat behind the desk that was exactly 4.2 feet to her right and the cover of the final one had a picture of the actor who was the star of a movie that had been on the list of films that she was supposed to have gone to see with...'NO!' she silently screamed at herself.

Six and a half months ago, her heightened awareness was something that she never had to concentrate on, it just was part of what had made her one of the brightest up and coming 'stars' in the CIA but these days she found herself having to concentrate just a little bit more than she liked, sometimes even losing focus for a second or two before catching herself and then locking back in.

She would never tell her mandated psychiatrist that whenever she'd lose focus, it was due to a stray thought that somehow would tie itself to a pair of brown eyes and curly...'no, please' she pleaded with herself, sure that the secretary, who hadn't looked her way since she took her seat, would notice that she seemed to blink her eyes too often. 'Later' she promised herself, knowing full well that her dreams would once again be haunted and she'd awaken with either a strangled scream, full of hurt, still echoing from the walls of her apartment or her blue eyes would be rimmed in red, moist from tears, or as was often the case, both.

"The director will see you now" a voice announced and Sarah almost flinched, realizing that she'd drifted again, failing to notice when the woman had received the summons she'd just relayed.

Getting to her feet, the cane in her hands helping more than she cared to admit, she crossed the small room without a word and walked though the now open door that lead to Director Langstom Graham's office.

'When did that open?' she asked herself, startled to find, yet again, that she'd drifted.

"Have a seat, Sarah" the big man said with a quick eye movement that directed her towards one of the two chairs that faced his desk. "How's the therapy going?"

'Well, straight to it' she told herself as she took a moment to collect herself while she lowered herself into the proffered chair. "Very good, sir" she answered, stretching the truth just a little.

"Really Sarah?" he replied, his eyes softening just a little after witnessing the barely noticeable flinch when Sarah's knee bent to allow her to sit.

"Yes sir. The doctors keep telling me I'm doing much better than they expected" she answered, the 'due to the amount of damage' that the doctors always added, being left unsaid.

"Sarah, we both know that while you're passing expectations, you're not going to make a full recovery..."

"I am, sir" she interrupted, suddenly wishing that the words she spoke were the truth, but she was enough of a realist to know that she might never be 100% ever again.

"Be that as it may, we have to face the very real possibility that you might not make it back into the field and..."

"Sir!"

"Sarah, please, you and I have known each other too long and the fact is that your knee will never be strong enough to allow you to re-qualify for field work. I know you'll insist on trying and, if by some miracle, in six months, you pass, I'll be very happy to be proven wrong. Until then, I...we need to decide what you want to do. Your knowledge could be invaluable to new agents and I'd like you to consider finishing your rehab at the farm. You would still have the best care and could help shape the agents that will be taking the fight to Fulcrum" he finished and seemed to lean back just a little despite the fact that he hadn't moved since she'd walked in.

Sarah sat stunned, the words her mentor had spoken striking against her hopes and the mention of Fulcrum reminding her of the failure that still haunted her and almost breaking her control. 'NO!' she screamed to herself again, beating imaginary fists against the lid that she tried to keep on the box that contained the memories of Charles Irving Bartowski.

She'd been cleared of any failure when she'd been called before a CIA review board almost a month after the helicopter had plunged into the bay. John Casey had supported the findings, surprising her with the almost glowing report he'd offered in support of her actions, but she continued to blame herself, knowing that the only court that mattered was the one that she fought whenever something reminded her of Chuck.

She still failed to understand why she was so deeply affected by a man she'd known for such a short time. She spent much more time than she tought was reasonable, asking herself that question and had yet to come up with an answer that made any kind of sense.

"Can I think about it sir? Or is it an order?" she asked, sure that her inner battle was safely hidden by the mask of indifference she wore whenever she left her apartment.

She already knew the answer, hoping that maybe a change of scenary and a partial return to the only world she'd known for years would help her find some answers...or maybe help her find a way to secure that 'lid' a little tighter.

"No, it's not an order, Sarah. I just think it might be good for you" he answered with a voice softer than she'd ever heard him use.

"Is there anything else, sir?" she asked and slowly got to her feet when he gave a shake of his head. "Well, in that case, I'll give you my answer tomorrow, sir" she said before turning and making her way out of the office. As she made her way through the office she happened to notice the magazine cover that featured the piture of the actor and memories of the movie she was supposed to see and the man she was suppoed to see it with once again beat at the lid of the box and she quickened her pace, pausing only once she felt the outer office door close behind. "No" she whispered to herself, blinking her eyes several times, beating on the lid of the box of memories and struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to make a daylight appearence.

"No" she said again and then, after taking a deep breath, resumed her short journey to the elevator that would take her to the lobby. Once there, she'd make it to the main entrance and, once through the checkpoints, she'd be outside and heading to her apartment.

'It's gonna be a long night' she told herself, sure that her dreams would feature a tall, curly-headed man whose brown eyes, she was afraid, would haunt her forever.

**A/N:2- **This may only be temporary...I would appreciate any hthoughts...next update will include Sarah crossing paths with Casey and, since it's time, I think I'll take a shot at explaining what else is going on, as seen from Casey's point of view. JT


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Not sure where this came from…the first two sentences appeared and then the rest followed…your thoughts and or help are greatly appreciated for this story…next time, I'll get back to our 'broken' angel…don't own Chuck or any of the characters from the show…however, the shabby treatment they receive at my hands is entirely my fault…bad wiring, it's not just in old houses…thanks to everyone who participated in the Awesome Awards…you people rock! Gotta take a nap to get ready for bedtime…later. Oh yeah, still having fun so thanks, Jim. _**JT**_

**Sarah Walker - Broken Beyond Repair - Chapter 3**

Major John Casey was not a happy camper. Of course, 98.7% of the people who happened to meet him would happily affirm that 'unhappy camper' was he default setting. It had been almost six months since Chuck Bartowski had been 'killed' in a single car accident and a little over five months since he'd last seen Agent Sarah Walker.

In that time, he'd been around the world at least twice, chasing after Bryce Larkin's 'corpse' and with each near miss, General Diane Beckman tightened the security around both Chuck and Ellie Bartowski. There was still no clear indication that the man he was sure he'd killed was, in fact, still alive but, as the General was constantly pointing out, until Larkin was confirmed either alive or dead, nothing was secure.

Casey had spent two weeks in Burbank after Chuck had been extracted, most of the time spent making sure that there were no loose ends. He'd never admit it, to anyone, but he'd been touched by the number of people who'd been affected by Bartowski's 'death'. Ellie had lost it, her sorrow leaving her devastated and almost catatonic for almost a week. He didn't know how she found the strength to make it through the memorial service and had spent almost an hour listening to her talk about her 'little brother' when he'd made an appearance at the small gathering after the service, sitting with the younger woman on the edge of the fountain in the apartment courtyard.

He'd expected her response but had been shocked when the elder Bartowski had expressed her concern about Sarah Walker, wondering if he'd heard anything about Chuck's 'girlfriend' who'd disappeared the same night that Chuck had 'died'. When he'd explained that he barely knew Sarah, Ellie had offered a sad smile while murmuring that she never got to know her either.

Somehow, Devon and Morgan both noticed Ellie speaking to him and appeared just as she was about to breakdown and managed to help her back to her apartment, leaving him silently cursing both the CIA, for screwing things up, and Bryce Larkin, for starting the dominos falling that lead to the surprising amount of hurt that was on display through out the courtyard.

Following orders, he'd kept a close watch on Ellie until a replacement team could be organized. Once the new agents were ready, John Casey introduced his 'nephew' and his wife to Ellie and Devon, explaining that they'd be moving into his apartment since he was re-enlisting. When he'd explained to Ellie that her new neighbors were looking for work and that they both had nursing degrees, she'd perked up a little and within minutes, had managed to find them both positions at Westside Memorial. Casey had expressed his thanks while Ellie spent time getting to know her new neighbors and, thanks to special pressure from the NSA behind the scenes, co-workers.

Casey knew that the two young agents, who were going to be leading a small team that were charged with keeping Eleanor Bartowski safe, had been hand picked by Chuck Bartowski for their compatibility with his sister. He'd been surprised that the moron had acquiesced to the NSA's need to 'kill' him, agreeing with the General's plans only after he'd made sure that his sister would be kept safe.

Almost a month after his death, Chuck Bartowski had greeted him with a hardy handshake and might have tried to hug him if he hadn't been threatened with a violent beating. Major John Casey had been back in Washington for a little over a week and had finally made the time to schedule a visit with his former asset. The General had encouraged the meeting, telling him that Bartowski had actually been asking to see him, hoping to get first hand news of how his sister was really doing.

He'd found Bartowski sitting by himself at a table in the base's commissary, silently pushing his meal around his plate. Hearing a grunt, the younger man had looked up and immediately smiled, getting quickly to his feet and moving around the corner of the table to stand in front of him. After the handshake and aborted attempt at a hug, he'd returned to his seat, gesturing towards the empty chair opposite him. Once he'd taken the seat, Bartowski had surprised him, not asking about his sister but inquiring instead about Sarah.

"Have you seen Sarah?" he'd asked, leaning forward slightly. "How is she? No one will say anything except that she's moved on to her next assignment and I was just, um, just a little worried…"

"She's fine" he'd lied, having been ordered to tell his former asset nothing more than that she'd moved on to her next assignment and that she hadn't said anything more than to wish him luck.

"Well, that's , uh, that's good news" the young man had replied, the look on his face indicating that the news was anything but 'good'. "So, how's Ellie?" he'd asked next, doing an admirable job of hiding the disappointment caused by Walker's supposed moving on had caused. "Does it look like the new team is going to work out? Did they get moved in and start their new jobs?" he'd queried, obviously eager to hear that his sister was safe and doing better.

The first week after he'd 'died' had been difficult and several times he'd been moments away from being sedated, calming down only after 'emergency' conferences with General Diane Beckman that involved promised being made that would allow him to contribute to the selection of the agents who would form the protection detail for Ellie and Devon. Once the team had been selected, Chuck had eased into his 'duties' that included twice daily reviews of the latest intel reports and writing an analysis report about any flashes he experienced.

In the months since, the moron, as Casey still occasionally referred to him, had eased into his routine and had also started working out. He'd told Casey that he'd been bored and figured that he couldn't spend all of his free time sitting around and playing video games so he might as well make use of the base's gym and numerous jogging trails. 'Besides', he'd added, 'jogging allows me some time in the sun'.

Returning from his latest 'Bryce hunt', Casey had been shocked when he found Chuck Bartowski sparring with one of the agents that made up his personal security detail, a group of 'newbie' agents who accompanied the asset whenever he was outside of his residence. Standing in the doorway of the base's dojo, he'd watched as the self professed nerd managed to hold his own against a trained agent, even managing to land a couple of punches before missing a block and landing on his ass, his lip split and bleeding.

"Not like Mortal Kombat, is it" Casey called out with a snort of humor.

"Casey, good to see you" he said after allowing his sparring partner to give him a hand up. After pausing to exchange bows with his opponent, Chuck jogged over to the doorway and, after pulling off the padded sparring glove, shook the bigger man's hand.

"Your hair's getting a little long" Casey told him, secretly impressed by the strength he noticed in his former asset's grip. "You're starting to look like this hippie, hacker geek I once met in Burbank" he announced, remembering when he'd first suggested that the nerd cut his hair so he might blend in a little better at the base, something that the General had supported.

"I'll take care of it this afternoon, Casey. I'm gonna hit the showers" Chuck announced, tucking his headgear and gloves under an arm. "Wanna get some chow?"

"Sure, why not" Casey answered with a shrug.

"Great. Looking forward to hearing all about the 'zombie' hunt. Meet ya in the mess" Chuck told him before turning and heading towards the locker room.

Casey chuckled, remembering the first time Bartowski had referred to Bryce Larkin as a zombie since his corpse seemed to have gotten up and walked away. It had been almost two months after his 'death' and the nerd had been the first to find hints that the CIA's most infamous rogue agent was still alive. In the four months since the first 'sighting', Chuck had been leading the hunt, at least in the cyber world, and each near miss seemed to make the young man work even harder.

When Chuck had received his first intersect update, almost three months after his 'death', he'd learned of the relationship between Bryce and Sarah and ever since, he'd asked less and less about his former cover-girlfriend, leading Casey to hope that maybe the kid hadn't fallen as hard as he first thought. That update had also marked a turning point in Chuck's control of the Intersect as it evolved from random flashes to an increasing level of control over the information in his brain.

John Casey had been out of country when the four month 'anniversary' of Chuck's death had rolled around and he'd actually taken the time to call and wish him a 'happy death day'. The growing rapport between the two of them had confused him at first until he realized that he was actually coming to think of Chuck as a friend and when General Beckman had contacted him with the news of a 'growing' Intersect agent who had also been developing physically, thanks in no small part to older NSA agent's constant ribbing about the nerd's lack of anything resembling stamina, he'd felt a strange sense of respect for the nerd. Normally the young man would've ignored his razzing but ever since the first update, he'd been pushing to be allowed to join the him in the field and the General had slowly been coming around to the idea of putting together a new Team Intersect.

That was the upside to his visit to the base and he was actually looking forward to giving Chuck the news. Graham and Beckman had finally agreed on an agent who would fill the position once held by Sarah Walker and despite his own personal misgivings, he agreed with the choice because he had a feeling that the new member might be the perfect foil for both Chuck and himself.

After a stop at the armory, he made his way to the mess hall and, after catching sight of freshly shorn nerd, made his way across the room to join his once and future partner as he made his way through the chow line. Sliding into place beside the younger man, he couldn't help noticing the increase in increased definition of Chuck's upper body. He knew the nerd would never mention his increased size and promised himself to congratulate him as soon as he could do it while delivering one of his usual putdowns at the same time.

"Nice haircut, moron" he mumbled while delivering a shoulder bump that nearly knocked younger man down.

"Thanks, old man" Chuck answered, watching the server on the other side of the steam table as he plated up a heaping pile of mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables. "Hey Robert" he said to the man behind the counter, "think you can find some soft food so the Major doesn't have to put his dentures in to eat his meal?"

"Sure thing Chuck. It's a little early but I'm sure I can find him something off the 'senior's early bird' menu" the young man answered with a laugh, ignoring the glare from the burly Major.

"Ha ha, very funny, Bar…on Asswipe" Casey shot back, catching himself at the last minute. He'd been the first to suggest giving Chuck a 'new' last name and still occasionally caught himself slipping into his old habit of calling him 'Bartowski'.

"Nice save, Casey" Chuck said quietly. "Much better than 'Bar…nacle Bill' or 'Bar…talbee', although I was happy to learn you'd followed my advice and watched that Kevin Smith movie. So, what did you think of my latest range scores?" Chuck asked while moving to swipe his ID card to pay for his meal.

"How'd you know I checked your scores?" he asked, honestly a little interested in how Chuck had figured out what he'd been doing before joining him for lunch.

"The faint smell of cordite tells me you went to the armory and you aren't sporting the usual afterglow you get whenever you've fired off a few hundred rounds so…you checked on my scores, right?"

"Not bad, moron and, not bad, moron" he answered, happy to get a 'double moron' out without having to admit that he was really impressed with Chuck's amazing proficiency with both handguns and rifles. He still couldn't believe that the nerd was currently ranked third overall for the entire base, his sniper scores coming surprisingly close to his own. Of course, range shooting was an entirely different animal than pointing a gun at living targets but, he was still impressed. Of course, he'd never tell the moron that.

"A double moron? Been a while since you've managed one of those. Ah…memories" Chuck said with a snort, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at an empty table that was as far away from any others diners as possible.

Taking a seat across from his former asset, he picked up a cupcake from his tray and dropped it onto the tray across from him. "Happy 'death-day', putz."

"Ah Casey, you remembered…how sweet. So I guess the gray hairs are only a sign of your encroaching decrepitude and not senility, good for you."

"Shut it, before I decide to take over your hand to hand training and accidentally break all of your bones."

"It really is good to see you Casey. What happened with the zombie hunt?"

"I can't prove it yet, but I'm sure it's him. Once we get the team into the field…"

"The team?" Chuck asked excitedly. "Exactly what team would that be, Casey?"

The General" Casey started the explanation with a lie, knowing that the General had already admitted to being impressed with Chuck's performance, "seems to think that if you continue to improve in your training…"

"Yeah?" Chuck asked, suddenly very curious.

"And if the new transfer works out…"

"What transfer, Casey? Who'd we get?"

"Some DEA skirt who recovered the Nadan Ah Noor diamond a few months ago…" he said, pausing when he noticed Chuck closing his eyes and dipping his head, tell tale signs of a flash. Ready for whatever might be asked of him, he waited patiently for Chuck to lift his head and quiz him about whatever he'd gleaned from the flash. Waiting patiently began to drift towards worry when Chuck's head remained lowered for much longer than flashes usually took. Just as he was about to reach a hand across the table to shake his young partner, because that was what he now was, Chuck's head lifted back up and he found himself staring into a pair of brown eyes that suddenly seemed much older than they had moments before.

"So, she worked with Agent Walker and slept with you…"

"We, uh, we never actually slept together" he blurted out, somehow keeping his voice low.

"Oh, so it was just handcuffs and boxers? Because that makes it better? She's a wild card, Casey. Do you honestly think she'll make this work?" he asked, referring to the proposed team.

"Believe it or not, I do. And if I'm wrong, we'll simply find another agent for our third."

"Unless she manages to get you or I killed…or turns out to be Fulcrum. She worked with Walker, who was partners with Larkin, who may or may not be alive and may or may not be Fulcrum. Are you sure we can trust her, John?"

"Yeah, Chuck, I do."

"Well then… I guess you better talk to the General and get things in motion" he said flatly, returning to eating his meal as if something huge hadn't just happened.

"Chuck, I'm sure about her. She may be a wild card, like you said, but I believe in her ability to get the job done. I'm just asking you to trust me on this."

"Alright , Casey, make the call. I'm actually looking forward to meeting the woman who conquered the 'mighty Casey' and left him cuffed…"

"Ah, shut it! Eat your cupcake, cupcake. I'll make the call" he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. After a quick series of taps on the display screen, he lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello Carina, it's John…John Casey…J…O…cut the crap and get your ass to…hello?…hello? She hung up" he said and looked at his partner and felt really, really tempted to slap the smirk off of his face.

"This feels like the start of a wonderful friendship."

**A/N: **Thoughts?


	4. Chapter 4SWBBR3 months ACD  by Aerox

**A/N: **This is the first contribution to the _Sarah Walker – Broken Beyond Repair Challenge._ Everything here, except for the A/N's and the title, is completely from the talented hands of **Aerox**! Chronologically, it belongs before chapter 3 and eventually it will be there, once I get around to re-arranging everything. If you have something that you think might fit into this AU, drop it to me and I'll post it here with complete acknowledgement of the source. As a blanket statement, I don't own any of the Characters from the Chuck TV show and I'm not making any money from this experiment. Comment, ideas or thoughts, in the form of reviews, are always welcome and if you enjoyed Aerox's addition to this story, drop him a line. Oh, for future reference…**ACD**…'After Chuck's Death' _**JT**_

**Sarah Walker – Broken Beyond Repair – Chapter 4 -written by Aerox**

**Sarah Walker – 3 Months ACD**

Agent Sarah Walker sat up with a jerk, her nightclothes soaked in perspiration and her breathing heavy and labored. His voice had once again invaded her dreams and spoken to her. And it had seemed so real. She was sure she could reach out to him, feel the fabric of his clothes, hear his baritone voice as it rumbled on and on about some trivia on some stupid science fiction thing he had seen or heard about, which maybe three or four people on the globe would care about.

She had seen his sister, the tears of grief over her face as she watched the casket get lowered into the ground. The only comfort that Sarah could give was a hand on her shoulder and her own set of tears. The only problem was that she didn't know whether they were fake or real.

The worst part however, was knowing it wasn't him. Only a select few people knew that his body had gone under with the helicopter, and inevitably had gotten mixed with the salt water of the harbor. She often found herself limping to a location in which she could find water, just to feel closer to him. It was ridiculous, but she liked sitting in the park, next to a pond. She liked feeling the sun on her skin and the soft sound of the water lapping at the sides. Because if she closed her eyes, she could imagine him sitting next to her, keeping up the cover while his arm was awkwardly draped across her shoulder. She could imagine the way his stubble would rub across her cheek as he pecked her on it, because a kiss on the lips, as chaste as it was with him, would've been crossing the boundaries he had set for himself.

And it was all snatched away from her, damn it. The asset she had sworn to protect, even if he had butchered the soufflé she had spent hours working on, was taken from her and he died in the water because of the fact that her former boyfriend decided that Chuck was the one who was perfect for safeguarding one of the most sought after pieces of intelligence the world had ever seen.

It was in times like these that Sarah had a tendency to reflect on her two weeks with Charles Bartowski. The self chastising would come later. The early hours of the morning were hers and hers alone. Alone with her memories. She shrugged into some easy fitting clothes, being careful not to jar her knee and waddled out of the apartment, taking her cane with her. The bandages were finally gone, but a brace was permanently positioned around it.

She walked over the nearly deserted streets, her feet finding an instinctive pattern to the park, as the cane continued to clap against the cement. Some cars found its way past her, but no one paid her any attention. Just the way she liked it.

She crossed over the intersection and stifled a wave of nausea, as her thoughts were once again flooded with him. She didn't try to keep a lid on them though. It was night. She could think about him at night. She just had to make sure she wouldn't during the day.

She approached the bench that had become hers and sat down on it, before closing her eyes. The wind cut through her clothes, but she paid it no mind as her mind drifted to the possibilities she had to spend some more time with her asset. Whether it was a cover date with Ellie and Awesome or one of those times where she had to fix his bowtie for him because he couldn't seem to get it right the first time around. And now the rest of her life would probably be spent informing fresh new recruits about the horrors of spying and how to persevere in the circumstances that the continuous paranoia would inevitably provide.

She sighed and lowered her head in her hands, a single tear dropping down to the grass below. It was all she allowed herself as she grieved for her lost asset. Graham knew and she knew, that she was hopelessly compromised. The only issue was that she didn't know why. She had burned assets before. She had even shot one, straight through the head and hadn't lost a wink of sleep thanks to it.

Now, all she could do was twist and turn, the stinging pain in her knee a perpetual reminder to the agency she had failed, the mission she had failed, the family she had failed and worst of all: the man she had failed.

Her sulking-turned-loathing was interrupted by a morning jogger who sat down next to her. "You okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," she nodded to the woman. She could hear the music buzzing in the jogger's ear buds and her mind drifted back to the first date, the questions about music, the dancing, the everything…

She blinked a couple of times to keep the tears from dropping but couldn't stop them from pooling in the corners of her eyes. The jogger noticed and immediately stopped the music. "Hey, you're obviously not okay. Do you want to... tell me what's wrong? I've been told I'm a great listener."

Sarah swiped her thumbs across her eyes, trying to clear the traitorous liquid from overflowing. "I'm just mourning my boyfriend," she replied. A lie based on a truth, classic CIA. "He died a few weeks ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she nodded. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "I appreciate what you're doing miss, but there's no need for you to interrupt your schedule. I'll be fine."

"Nonsense. No one should grieve alone. Tell me about him."

She sighed. Sarah hated talking. Talking made a mess out of things. Talking got people compromised. Got her compromised. She preferred silence, hiding in the shadows, only striking when the time was right. Now, even that was taken from her. She had no personal life and now she had no professional life either. All she was left with, was the tightening of her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Her instinctual need to cry suppressed by years of training. Her body was betraying her mind and made it harder and harder to grab back to the mantra she was taught, though. "He was... a good man. And my ex was to blame."

"He killed him?" she gasped.

"What? No, no. It's just... he was a civilian and my ex was a police officer. And my ex, he dragged my boyfriend into his world and that's what got him killed. And I could've stopped it. I should've stopped it. I should've told him that it was too dangerous and now he's gone and I don't know what to do anymore." She lost it then, the tears overflowing and her entire body wracking with sobs. Mourning a life lost in the most senseless of means. A man who while wallowing in mediocrity, was destined for great things. A man cut down in his prime by the combined evils of the world, the evils she had sworn to battle and the man she had sworn to protect against all odds.

Sarah Walker had gotten Chuck Bartowski killed.

The revelation proved to be her undoing and she found herself being pulled into a hug while she cried. She was vaguely aware of the woman shushing her, telling her it would be alright with time, but she really couldn't believe it. She would've been faced with her failure for the rest of her career, the only one she had apart from being a grifter. She would walk into Langley, into the classroom and speak about her failures, doomed to relive them over and over.

Her sobs died down and she was released by the complete stranger. "Sorry about that," she offered meekly.

"Don't be. Happens to the best of us."

"I best be on my way then," she said, sharing a small laugh with the woman. "And thank you, miss..."

"Roberts. Jill Roberts."

"Thank you, Jill."

"You're welcome," she offered with a sad smile before resuming her jog. Sarah peered out over the small pond and sighed. It was time to go face the music.

**A/N:2 **This was the first contribution to the Sarah Walker- Broken Beyond Repair Challenge and Aerox did a great job. If you have something you think would make a nice addition to this AU, just let me know. You can email me ny using my author name at that yahoo place. If you like this you can review or send a note to Aerox. JT


	5. Chapter 5SWBBR100 days ACD by Michael66

**A/N: **Here's a new chapter and this one is the brain child of the very talented **Michael66** If you haven't read any of his stories, what the hell are you waiting for? Here's an idea…after you read this new chapter for the Sarah Walker:Broken Beyond Repair Challenge, take some time and enjoy some great storytelling. I just started re-reading 'Three day tour' and I'm enjoying it…again. If you enjoy this chapter please be sure to let Michael66 know, either through a PM or by leaving a review…or both. If anyone else would like to play in this sandbox, you can send me anything that you would like to add, using my email account…send your contributions to my author name at that yahoo place. Remember, Sarah and Chuck will be reunited…eventually so if you havean idea that you think would work here, keep that in mind. New chapters or one-shots are welcome and my only requestis, if possible, use ACD(After Chuck's Death) to help place your contribution, chronologically speaking..Anyone who decides to add to this AU will be receive full aknowledgement of their asdditon to the SS:BBRC.

Any of the characters for the television series are used here with no financial payment because none of the authors here own any of the characters from the official 'Chuckverse'(unless someone's holding out on us…).

Now, without further rambling, here's the latest…

**Sarah Walker – Broken Beyond Repair – Chapter 5…contributed by Michael66**

**100 days ACD**

"Cut it."

"Are you sure?" He stood behind her, looking at her in the mirror. "Your hair is so beautiful. And it'll take a while to grow back."

Her fingers pulled at the ends of her long blonde hair and let it fan out as it fell back down to her chest. She tilted her head down and closed her eyes, "Please." She'd let the bottle blonde in her hair grow out leaving its more natural dirty blonde showing almost an inch from its roots.

"As you wish." He quickly weaved her hair into a single long braid. He began to cut it off and stopped with her gasp.

She swallowed then nodded. "Go ahead."

She refused to open her eyes until the hairdresser was finished. He'd dyed her now-short hair a medium brown. The layered cut reminded her of that eighties punk look she seen on album covers of _his_ vinyl collection. She couldn't remember the artist's first name: something Benatar. She smiled as she looked at the reflection in the larger mirror of the smaller mirror the hairdresser held behind her head. Her neck and shoulders were exposed and the cool air gave her goose bumps.

She got up from the chair and approached the large mirror and checked her brown tinted contacts. She had stopped plucking her eyebrows a few weeks ago. Unless someone knew her well, they would not recognize her.

He held her braid in his hand and smiled, "You said that this should go to charity. This will make someone very happy. Do you have a name to go with your gift?"

It was a hard swallow. She willed herself not to cry in public and cringed as her voice betrayed her, "Chu… Charles Irving Bartowski."

…

She'd met with Graham who'd wanted her to take some time off. At first, she was reluctant as her rehab was progressing well, but her mood, frankly, was crap. She would most likely never be in the field again, but she could come back as an analyst or instructor. _'Don't just disappear, Sarah, talk to me first.'_ She promised she would, but she wasn't sure she would be able to keep her word.

Sarah Walker stayed in her D.C. apartment. Christine Barstow left her behind with everything, except for a single picture, a cane, her knee brace and a small bag of clothes. What she could not leave with Special Agent Sarah Walker were her memories, as much as she would like to. And if she could, which ones would she have given up?

…

On the train North to New York, Christine wore simple clothes; jeans, a plain T-shirt and flat shoes. She wanted to blend in and so took a seat in coach. During the middle of the day, it was not overly crowded and she was able to sit alone in her aisle of seats. She stuck the ear buds of a cheap mp3 player in her ears and tried to lose herself in his music.

She had 'stolen' several of his comic books and novels and had read through all of them. She'd even bought more of the same titles searching for insights. This had become her new mission; who was Charles Irving Bartowski? And how had he so completely disarmed her? And she hoped that along the way, she would be able to figure out who she was and what she'd become.

If Chuck's stories had a common thread, it was that they featured a reluctant hero; Han Solo, Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker and others. The hero was broken in some way and their journey was more about healing than it was about feats of heroism. And just when you thought that they were done for, crushed by the weight of their responsibilities, they reached down inside and found what they needed to stand a little taller.

How did Chuck do it? In the end, he stared down the gun barrels of two trained agents, two of his country's best. And he made those two agents blink. Then to make matters worse, he defused a bomb and saved how many hundreds of lives. When she had found him at the beach, she'd kept her distance and watched over him, protected him. Even from her bosses. It had somehow become more than a job for her.

But he hadn't survived their last mission, had he? She was supposed to protect him, to keep him safe. He tried to save her. But she didn't need to be saved. Yes. She did. Zarnow had crippled her with that pipe to the knee. She would never have gotten free and she would be dead now. He had sacrificed himself by being her hero.

It was all her fault.

She pulled the ear buds out and closed her eyes.

"Lady."

Christine knew it was the little girl sitting in the seat ahead of her. She ignored her.

"Lady. Why are you crying?"

Her eyes shot open and her hand went to her face. She _was_ crying. She hurriedly wiped the tears away and smiled at the girl. She was adorable and couldn't have been more than six. "I lost someone."

"Where did you lose him?"

She looked at the little girl. Her hair was a soft brown in long curls that seemed to delight in misbehaving with odd shapes. _Oh God. Is that what she would look like?_ She wanted to reach out and play with her hair. _Oh crap!_

She told the child, without thinking, "Back home."

"Where's home? Maybe he's just sleeping."

_Oh hell. Yeah, he's sleeping. The big… Don't say it!_

The child's mother looked over the seat at Christine, "I'm so sorry." She turned to her daughter and said, "Sit back down and leave the nice lady alone."

"But Mommy, she lost someone. Maybe we can help her find him."

She heard the mother say something about a 'Buster'. The little girl sat back down with a defeated sigh, "Oh."

…

The train entered the dark tunnel on its way to its final stop at Penn Station. Christine looked out the window and could see only darkness, broken by the evenly spaced lights. She caught her reflection in the window. She might not be dressed in black, but she was a woman in mourning. _'I lost someone.'_

She had attended neither funeral. Not for the man she loved and shouldn't have nor for the man she didn't love and should have. How twisted fate was. The two men had, at one time, been best friends. They were separated by an ugly betrayal and reunited for an even uglier one.

With the train slowing, she turned to her books on the seat and started packing them away. At her arrival, she would head straight for an electronics store and pick up two items she would need; a Mac and an iPhone. She wanted nothing with her from her CIA life on this trip.

…

Sitting at the desk in her hotel room, she fussed over the customizations on her laptop. She knew she was stalling. She hated talking about herself even, maybe especially, to herself. The point of the trip was to disappear for a while, to find a place where no one knew her and give her self time to heal, to figure out who she'd become. Chuck was gone, gone longer than she had actually known him, but who he was and what he had done for her and to her had deeply insinuated itself into her psyche.

Shortly after they'd met, Chuck had set up an account for them to communicate should they ever be separated, for whatever reason. It was a fail safe of sorts. It wasn't perfect, but they'd agreed, whatever happened, they would try to login to the account and leave a message for the other. She knew he would never be able to respond, but it was all she had. Christine knew she already cared more for him than she should.

She couldn't go home to her Mother; that was too dangerous. Her father wouldn't understand. Carina would laugh at her. She didn't trust the CIA and she couldn't go outside of the agency. The account would serve as her reminder of him and she would talk to him.

She brought up her browser and logged in. She held her breath after putting in the password and hit enter.

The account was still there, it hadn't been disabled from disuse. There were a number of unread 'Welcome to gmail' messages. She deleted them all without looking. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw several saved draft items. She opened the first one and remembered Chuck showing her how it would work. But there were three more she didn't remember. She was in tears when she opened the first; it was a picture of him standing in front of the Nerd Herd counter.

She ran her fingers across his image and whispered, "I'm so sorry I failed you." She had another crying spell and chided herself. _Yeah, you were so compromised, Sarah._

She clicked on the next icon. It was another picture. Of her in that ridiculous costume. She swore she could still smell that hideous odor. _Why did he include this?_ Of course. If she had disappeared, he would at least have a picture that the cleaners would never find.

The final item in the draft folder had a date in the 'Subject' line. It was from two days before everything had gone to hell.

_Sarah,_

_If something happens to one of us, I hope you'll remember our promise to check this account._

_First, I want to thank you for keeping me out of that bunker and with my family. You gave me the chance to do something good with my life. Now it's up to me to face my fears and do the right thing. I'm sure, with you by my side, I can do that. We can do that, together._

_Finally, if the worst has happened and I've become plant food, could you do me a favor? Keep an eye out for my family. Especially Ellie. I'm the only family she has and I know how I would be if something were to happen to her. And when you do go back out there, battling for the greater good, remember to take care of yourself and be safe._

_All my love,_

_Chuck_

So tightly clenched were her facial muscles, her jaw ached. She had to rub them with her hands to get them to relax. His death was her fault, a betrayal of his trust in her. And she had betrayed him a second time when she ran away.

"I don't know what you saw in me Chuck. I'm just not that girl."

She logged out of the account, cleared any traces of her activities and shut down the laptop. She grabbed her cane and headed for the door. She needed a drink.

**A/N:2** So, what did you think about Michael66's contribution to this AU? Your opinion is very important to everyone who's taken the time to add to this story so please hit the review thingie and share…or, you could send the author(s) a PM, praising them for the great story telling.


	6. Chapter 6SWBBR1month ACD by DocInOz

**JTZnotes: **This chapter is a little lighter than the rest of the story…so far. Contributed by DocInOz, this chapter gives a look at the results of Chuck's 'death' on the citizens of Buymoria(I guessed at the time frame, hope that's alright, Doc). I was jazzed when this showed up in my mailbox and I just couldn't wait to share it with all of you(I added the horrible title and eagerly await Doc's official title). Remember, if any of you have a chapter you'ld like to add to this please send it my way. Any and all contributions are welcome and will be published and when I get around to it, I'll try to organize everything, chronologically speaking. All reviews are greatly appreciated and don't be afraid to send a PM to any of the authors who have decided to pick up the scissors and run around in this little AU. Thanks Doc, greatly appreciated. **JT**

**Doc's notes – **The last time I accepted one of jaytoyz'z challenges, I lost out on an 'Awesome' – to him…..

So, let's see if we can't do that again.

-o0o-

Ownership of Chuck – Nyet!

-o0o-

**1 month ACD**

**Buymoria: A Lost Cause Without The Rebel **

'Big' Mike Tucker let the donut fall back into the box with a small pouf of powdered sugar that settled unnoticed across his desk and environs. He sighed, and the excess sugar around his mouth added to the light sugar haze that existed within these walls.

The sigh wasn't a sigh of contentedness, or an 'all is right with the world' sigh. It was a 'something is rotten in the state of Buymoria' sigh.

Bartowski was dead, and that idiot, Tang, was just making things worse. Grimes had wanted to organize black arm bands for the staff, and Tang in his infinite wisdom had ripped the crepe paper off Morgan's arm. It hadn't quite led to red revolution, Tang's weirdly mixed ineptitude and martinet petty threats actually worked, but things weren't happy.

-o0o-

Harold Tiberius Tang gazed out over his empire, and sighed with contentment. Things were finally going the way they should. Yes, it was a pity about Bartowski, but the weak fall by the wayside, and Bartowski was weak.

Weak! They were ALL weak! It showed in their performance, the sales figures had been appalling since Bartowski died.

Neither Skip nor Fernando had said a word since the news of the accident, and despite his firm guidance, that pair refused to say anything. It was hard to get sales without actually speaking to potential customers.

Harry's friend (and fellow graduate from the Price Increasing School of Special Advanced Natural (leadership) Training – It was a pity about the acronym, otherwise more graduates might also wear the polo shirt), Scooter from over at the wiener franchise was having staff problems too, Bartowski's Barbie clone girlfriend had vanished soon after the car crash. Harry and Scooter agreed that it was perfectly within his rights to withhold her last paycheck. She was weak too.

-o0o-

Scooter, who still hadn't forgiven his parents for the 'it builds character' name they'd lumbered him with, didn't miss Little Miss Perky. Scooter heaved a sigh. The sales had slipped since bondie had lost her boytoy.

What he did miss, was the teenaged boys from a five mile radius she brought in, because teenaged boys are always hungry, and will eat just about anything. Even a corndog. And the Wienerlicious had never featured in so many Facebook pages before. Admittedly, little miss 'Ohh, I love geeks' had been the prime target of these Facebook photos, but the uniform and the restaurant interior were at least visible.

Scooter expected a 'Hot Dawg!' nomination this year from the other franchisees over the sheer volume of free advertising these Facebook (and Flikr, and Twitter) photos brought.

No, Scooter didn't miss blondie. Because with her gone, then all the geeks from across the lot stopped sniffing around. Especially that creepy, greasy Caninjun. There was something seriously wrong with that person. There was something wrong with all of them, but Lesbo Larry (or whatever his/her name was)? They were the wrongest.

-o0o-

Lester sighed happily as he slapped Morgan on the shoulder in a comradely manner, "Morgan, buddy, now there's room for you in our crew!"

Evidently, Lester's 'comradely manner' needed work, because it didn't work. Morgan just shrugged and trudged morosely away.

Lester looked at Morgan's slumped shoulders as the little bearded one wandered rudderless. What was the big deal? Sure, it was sad about Bartowski, and Tang was rattling his own cage a bit more now, not that Tang couldn't be sufficiently ignored. Life was pretty sweet now, Lester and Jeff were the kings of the Herd, not that they'd ever touch one of Gates' ripoffs, they were Mac arteests. So things were pretty quiet for them. Little Miss Whore Skirt over there was run pretty ragged without Charles to help with, well, whatever it was he did.

-o0o-

Bob and Dave actually worked for the NSA in tech support. Despite that word: 'technical,' that occupied a prominent portion of their job description, their job mostly entailed installing remote surveillance equipment into people's homes and places of work. Very occasionally they even got to take the bugs back again.

This was one of those rare times. The pair were dressed in overalls logoed for the aircon company that had the contract with Buy More corporate, although frankly they could have worn street clothes based on the level of interest shown by the assistant manager.

Dave sighed, saying, "Crap, this place is a hole. Who'd want to work here?"

Bob nodded, "Let alone bug it." Bob was damned if he'd tell Dave about working in one of these hell holes when he was in college, during the break. This one was worse than the one in Vale, and that was something Bob thought was impossible. Seriously, who thought an indoor rock climbing wall was a neat idea? It was just a bunch of insurance claims waiting to happen.

"Yeah, wonder why The Powers That Be decided that national secrets were at risk _here_?"

"Ours not to reason why."

-o0o-

Anna Wu locked herself into the Cage, ostensibly to work uninterrupted, but in actuality to cry. When Chuckles had been around, this was ….. not a fun place, but acceptable. Chuck had made it acceptable. Frak-it, it _had_ been fun. She missed him. She'd never admitted to herself that Chuck was desirable, not even when blondie showed up suddenly and pissed her circle around him. While Chuck was obviously smitten, there was something not quite kosher about that pairing….

Anna sighed….. Chuck was dead. There was nothing she could do. Now she wanted something she couldn't have. Would never have. Probably would never have had, but to have to option, the opportunity removed like that…. She'd never know.

-o0o-

Morgan was _way_ past sighing. His best friend, lifelong buddy and hetero life partner was dead. What was he supposed to do now?

Morgan was adrift. He had nothing to do, and only went to work from inertia. Chuck was practically his whole reason for being. Without Chuck, Morgan was just…..

Lost.

There was nothing for Morgan at all. When Chuckster went through the Jill years, Morgan found a purpose. He and Ellie, well mainly Ellie, had tried to keep Chuck from the dark side. But games and stuff, that was all Morgan.

Now, without Chuck, well it was either go to work, or watch The View. And frankly it was a toss up. The View lost, only because he'd have to explain the Cheesy Poof crumbs to his mother, and why they were scattered around and in the couch.

This sucked.

Everything sucked ever since Chuck …..

Morgan tried not to cry. Even Del Amitri's music was cheerful in comparison to this, and they did some of the best 'dog just died, wife ran off and last cigarette' music ever.

-o0o-

Jeff sighed.

This place had turned to something you couldn't polish, but could roll in glitter, ever since Chuck died.

Everyone seemed to react to Chuck's death differently, but they'd definitely reacted.

In an academic manner, it was curious to note the different responses. Jeff added some comments to his blog, omitting the names naturally.

There was still something off about Chuck's death. Jeff supposed that was his own response, and made a mental note to categorize what he was going through, to add to the blog.

But, why was Chuck out on a service call that night? It wasn't his turn. Now, Chuck did cover for some of the less technically minded, but that night was Jeff's rostered on-call night. And Jeff knew that the phone hadn't rung. At all.

It was almost like that spycomedy TV show, Sam. Jeff missed that show, it only ran for 5 years, and they ruined the last three, especially that ending.

That brought something to Jeff's attention. The National Security Agency. The Second Amendment not withstanding, the NSA could be relied on for good files on people. And they seemed to have a blind spot for Macs. Must be a government contract thing. When Jeff accessed his portal into the NSA, all reference to Chuck was gone.

And Jeff knew it was there before – one of the advantages of finding out things about people they wouldn't normally tell you themselves.

But now, Chuck didn't exist according to the NSA. Had never existed.

Why would a spy agency wipe Chuck's existence off the map?

Then Lester handed Jeff another beer.

Oh well, he'd add that stuff to his blog tomorrow…..

JT/N: Reviews loved and encouraged.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I'm trying…really, I am. Anyone want to add something here? Would love to have your contribution. Thoughts about this? JT

**Sarah Walker : Broken Beyond Repair - Chapter 7**

**8 months ACD**

Carina Miller sat staring at her Ipad which she had gripped between her thighs, just above her knees. Like so many other things in her life, she had an un-orthodox method when it came to reading and answering her emails. With her back scrunched up against the headboard of her bed, she looked down at the latest message she'd received from her oldest friend, wondering yet again why both John Casey and their boss, General Diane Beckman, had informed her that any communication with Sarah Walker was severely discouraged. She hadn't been told to never speak to her but it had been made very clear that any mention of her latest assignment and the AIC would be considered an act of treason.

In the two months since she'd been drafted onto 'Team Intersect', every question she'd had answered had only led to more questions. Thinking back she remembered that after her first meeting with her two primary team mates, she'd wondered how she'd gotten lucky enough to land such a plumb assignment and now, two months later, she wondered how the hell they were still alive. In sixty days, she'd been on more missions than some agents completed in a lifetime of service, and she was loving it.

When she'd walked into that conference room that first day, she'd been expecting to see John Casey and she'd planned ahead, wearing an outfit she was sure would drive the older NSA agent crazy with desire. Her plan nearly backfired when General Diane Beckman had walked in right behind her and, in a voice filled with condescension, informed her that 'DEA tart gear' wasn't really a wise choice for her first team meeting and that perhaps Major Casey had been thinking with the wrong head when he'd recommended her. She hadn't been aware that John had been the person who got her out of fighting drug cartels and onto one of the best kept secrets in the intelligence community and promised herself to 'thank' him some time real soon.

Before she could offer any of her tried and true excuses, the diminutive woman who was now her boss simply clucked her tongue twice and pointed to the empty seat between John Casey and a positively yummy looking guy who was nervously shuffling the papers in front of him while he tried to look anywhere but at her. Moving quickly, she slid into the empty seat and gave the big man next to her a questioning glance while 'accidentally' knocking her knee against the man who was sitting to her left hand side, secretly pleased when her contact actually made the mystery man jump a little and blush a lot.

"What? You thought your clearance was bumped up three levels because they wanted you to shake your ass and display your expertise with handcuffs?" Casey said out of the side of his mouth, making very little effort to actually whisper.

"You never complained…"

"Well, as enlightening as this is" General Beckman barked out, never actually raising her voice but somehow commanding everyone's attention, "the extra jewelry on my uniform allows me to say…SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

The three people at the table snapped to attention, or at least as close to attention as they could get without actually standing up, and sat silently while the lights in the room dimmed and a large flat screen monitor on the far wall glowed to life.

"Hansen, you're the fresh fish here so pay close attention and, if you have any questions after I finish this presentation, I'm sure the AIC will be more than happy to answer them" the General said before tapping on the keyboard in front of her and then swiveling her chair towards the images that had begun appearing on the screen.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The two hours had flown by and as the lights re-adjusted to their normal levels, Carina Hansen sat stunned speechless, a first for the normally unflappable young woman. Turning to her right, she found Casey nodding a confirmation to her unasked question.

"Holy shit!" the former DEA agent breathed out.

"Welcome to the big leagues, Miss Hansen" the director of the NSA announced with a slight smile. "So, since I'm late for a meeting with Barrack, if there are any questions that the AIC of Team Intersect can answer for you, please feel free to ask away. Good day, team" the General said while getting to her feet and heading towards the door. "0800 tomorrow, you're leaving for Portland…don't be late!"

As soon as the door had closed behind the General, Carina turned to her right. "Yeah, first off, John, how…" Carina blurted out before falling silent when she noticed Casey shaking his head at her, the faint smile on his lips making her wonder what the hell had happened to the 'never let them see you smile' John Casey she'd known for years.

"What the hell, Casey? Beckman said you'd answer any questions I had and I…"

"No, Carina, she said the AIC would answer any questions you had and, since the whole world has gone nuckingfuts, the AIC is the numbnuts sitting next to you…Chu…Charles Carmichael."

"Oh, that's really nice, Casey. It wasn't my idea and you know that. In fact, I tried to tell her she was making a mistake…in fact, as I seem to recall, you kicked me in the shins when I was trying to tell her she'd made a mistake and…"

"And you don't tell a General she's made a mistake, you moron, especially your boss" Casey growled back while tossing a crumpled up piece of paper at the younger man's head.

"Hey, stop that! Maybe the AIC should make you go stand in a corner" Chuck replied, wagging a finger at the older man but obviously struggling to hide a smile.

"Kiss my ass, Bar…butthead. Just for that, I'm gonna leave you alone with the 'devil's mistress' while I go get the course set up so you can finish your certification" Casey mumbled while quickly gathering the notes spread out in front of him and making a hasty exit.

'What the hell?' Carina had asked herself, wondering if Team Intersect involved some form of 'conditioning' that she hadn't been told about because, whoever had just left the room wasn't the John Casey she'd known since Prague.

"Hi, I'm Charles but if you promise that you won't repeat it to anyone, you can call me Chuck. You had a question?"

"Um, uh" Carina had replied, looking up and suddenly losing herself in the deepest pair of brown eyes she'd ever seen.

"A question?" Chuck had repeated when his newest teammate seemed to lose her train of thought.

"Oh, yeah…uh, certification?" the former DEA agent had asked, having forgotten her earlier question.

"Oh, yeah, Casey wants me to pass the standard certification course before we have our first field mission" Chuck had answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"Hold on a minute. You're AIC of a team that requires higher security clearances than the first lady has and you're not certified? How is that even possible?"

"Well, there was a problem…a while ago, and Casey decided that he wanted me to be able to defend myself. After I got started with the certification program, he raised the bar, insisting that I pass the same evaluation that all agents are required to pas before being cleared for field work. I…"

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that you never went to the 'Farm' or at least through some type of advanced military training? Where the hell did Beckman find you?" Carina asked, finding herself confused about what was going on with the team she'd just joined. She knew that Casey was about the best there was even if he was getting just a little long in the tooth. Of course she'd never tell him that but what the hell was going on with Carmichael.

"No, sorry, no training at all. Never even picked up a gun until six months ago…unless you count the 'fire arms' that go along with some of my video games, in which case I've been 'packing heat' since I was seven."

"You're kidding, right?" Carina asked, stunned with what she'd just found out. "No, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. Before I ask any other questions, would you mind if I tag along? I'd really like to watch my partner as he gets certified" she'd said with a smile and a wink.

"Sure, I guess so" he'd answered and, without a further word, set about gathering up all of the papers that littered the table in front of him before walking to the door where he stood, obviously waiting for her to join him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The soft ping from her Ipad snapped Carina back to the present and she looked down to find a new email had found it's way to her inbox. The return address caught her attention and she actually caught herself looking around guiltily, as if someone might be hidden in her room, watching as she opened an email from an old friend.

"Perfect timing, Walker" she muttered under her breath, amazed that Sarah had somehow picked the first weekend she'd had off in two months to ask her about getting together for a drink. Comparing the risks of seeing her oldest friend to the very real possibility of treason charges for seeing her, she decided to ask Casey for his advice since, surprisingly, he'd become her sounding board for all things 'Team Intersect' related.

In all their time together, she'd learned precious little about Chuck's life before the Intersect. Despite her best efforts to pry anything from him, she never seemed to find enough time to do any serious digging. Whenever she found herself alone with him, they were either mission active or Casey would show up and put the smack down to her attempts to get to know Chuck a little better. If she was honest with herself, she found that she was becoming increasingly attracted to the nerd turned agent who still wore his geek heart on his sleeve and, the fact that he continued to turn down her offers of 'special carnal training' so he would be a better agent was causing her more frustration than she could remember ever happening before.

One night, when she and Casey had decided to punish a bottle of whiskey, she'd finally gotten the nerve to ask Casey why Chuck didn't seem to be interested in what she was offering, hinting that she thought he might be gay. Casey had mumbled that 'Walker didn't seem to think so' and had then immediately told her to forget he'd said anything. When she'd joked about asking Sarah about Chuck, Casey had put the cap back on the bottle, reminded her that even talking to Walker could lead to charges of treason…or worse and had then kicked her out.

She'd been called into Beckman's office the next day, supposedly for a performance evaluation but, there was no doubt that it was a warning. Without saying anything specific about Sarah, the General took the time to update her on the ongoing search for Bryce Larkin, the missing corpse who's continuing absence had some of the most powerful people in the intelligence community in a perpetual state of near panic. When Carina finally left the office, with a glowing performance evaluation no less, she knew that anything more than a casual conversation with her old friend might very well lead to her removal from Team Intersect…and everything else as well.

After a quick phone call to Casey, she sat for almost an hour trying to decide if she should accept Sarah's offer. After sending an email suggesting the time and place, she called Casey again and after getting his promise to back her up, if for no other reason than to have someone who could confirm that she hadn't said anything she shouldn't. she went to bed.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Carina had been sitting at the table, watching as people milled around the outdoor café with drinks in their hands. 'Yuppie scum' Casey's voice announced in her ear and she couldn't help smiling. Looking down at the menu sitting on the table in front of her, she looked back up just as Sarah Walker made her entrance. She couldn't believe the change that had come over her friend. She was still stunningly beautiful but this was not the Sarah Walker who once commanded everyone's attention whenever she walked into a room.

Taking a second look, Carina struggled to put her finger on what the change was. She'd immediately noticed the slight limp and the cane that seemed to be at home in her hand but dismissed that as the change. Looking around she noticed that men still took notice of her but something was off. It took her a second look to realize what it was, the difference was so subtle but, once she figured it out, she was stunned. It was the women. A year ago, every woman in the place would be feeling threatened or envious or jealous, often moving closer to their dates in an attempt to keep them 'safe' from the 'predator' that was walking among them but now…now, it seemed like every woman in the bar knew the same thing that Carina had realized…that their 'others' were safe because Sarah Walker had lost her heart. Carina wanted to leap up and run to her friend, throw her arms around her and tell her everything would be alright. It took all of her training to remain seated as she watched her friend close the distance between them, the slight limp barely noticeable but the unseen damage to her heart seeming to scream…SARAH WALKER, BROKEN BEYOND REPAIR…and for the first time in as long as she could remember, Carina Hansen wanted to cry for another human being.


	8. Chapter 8SWBBR8monthsACD by Itsheppard

**P/N: (**Poster's note) Hey gang, the chapter below is a great continuation to Chapter 7 and it's from a first timer so if you like it, reviews are great but it would be even cooler if you were to drop Itsheppard a note of encouragement…hopefully we'll get more from this talented newcomer…very soon! Of course, I'd love to see more for this story but I'd really like to see something totally new from the newest member of the Chuckffflock.

**A/N:** I stumbled across this awesome story by jaytoyz and was sad when I saw it ending at chapter 7. Then I read that this was a challenge to write a sort of collaborated story and I just thought "What the frak" and decided to get this going again by myself. Now I have no idea if this is good or not, but I hope some of you like it and maybe one or two of you decide to write a chapter or so yourself. Hope to see you again soon, maybe with another chapter!

**Sarah Walker : Broken Beyond Repair - Chapter 8 (by ltsheppard)**

**Still 8 months ACD**

Carina Miller forced herself to smile. She hadn't been a spy for years just to break down crying outside a crowded café in the middle of the day. Also, she wasn't the one who had to have some serious problems here. Watching Sarah limping over to her, she stood up when her friend was almost at her table intent on greeting her with a hug. It might have seemed out of character for her to display her emotions so openly, but she felt like if there ever was a moment for her to do it, that moment was now.

"Carina", she heard her friend sigh.

"Good to see you, Sarah", she said after a moment of silence. Her friend seemed to hold onto her quite a bit more than what was required for a friendly hug. Carina wondered if it was because of whatever had happened to her leg or... something else.

After another few seconds, Sarah took a step back and looked at her. "It's Christine now. Christine Barstow. I left Sarah Walker in DC and I don't think she'll be coming back."

"And I thought Barto-... uh Carmichael was a weird name", she heard Casey snark in her ear. She frowned. She'd heard him say that a few times when they were on missions, usually when he was making jokes about Chuck. She didn't need to be a spy to know that it'd probably been Chuck's name before he was recruited by Beckman.

"Okay, Christine. Nice to meet you then", the redhead tried to lighten the mood a bit but she knew that the faint smile on Sarah's, no Christine's, face was fake. "I'm still Carina, by the way."

Her friend didn't say anything to that, so she went back to her chair and motioned for her companion to sit down opposite her. For a moment she was tempted to help her, noticing how slowly she lowered herself on the chair, but decided against it. She knew that she wouldn't want to accept her help, she was too proud and stubborn for that. Not that she would have wanted help in that situation. But that was an entirely different matter.

"You want something to drink?", she asked her friend after a few seconds of mostly uncomfortable silence, staring at her own Tequila Sunrise, the glass itself still untouched and the condensed water on its sides glistening in the rays of the uncharacteristicly warm midday sun. She didn't know what had gotten into her to order something like this, but she blamed the weird feeling she'd had ever since she'd gotten Walker's e-mail.

Sarah just nodded her head and they signaled one of the café's waiters. "Tonic water please. Don't forget the lime."

After the waiter had left, silence descended again. Carina wasn't sure what to say. There were a lot of questions on her mind, but she knew that asking any of them would have... undesirable consequences for her. Maybe she would have had the heart to ask if Casey wasn't listening, but she knew that he would rat her out to Beckman in a heartbeat, even if he seemed different than when she last met him. Orders, duty and country were still his main priorities.

"So", Carina started after heaving a sigh (an almost inaudible one, of course), "I remember 'getting together for drinks' used to mean something different than sitting in a café in the afternoon, drinking tonic water. You on some kind of medication or something?" She smiled at her friend and thought that the slight smile she got in return was genuine this time.

"I'm sure it still does mean that for you", she said after a second. "I bet you're in some club every other day, letting strangers buy you drinks."

"And there's something wrong with that?"

"Well, I don't know Carina. You're the expert on that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. You're just no fun. It's always the same with you."

Sarah smiled. "I've missed you."

"Me too", Carina answered. "You don't make a lot of friends in our line of work".

"No, you don't." Sarah looked down at the glass the waiter had just brought and sighed.

Carina cursed wordlessly. It seemed that the almost fun part of their day was over. Wondering what she should do now, what questions she should and could ask, she was startled when her friend started talking again.

"So I heard you recovered the Nadan Ah Noor diamond a few months ago... without backup. Good work."

"You heard? I thought you weren't working at the moment." Carina motioned to the cane that Sarah had leaned on one of the table's legs.

"I'm... I'm not. I... was injured on my last assignment and I've been doing rehab since...", Sarah answered a tad shakily. "I've heard it when I was at the CIA headquarters a while ago..."

"Oh" was all that she said to that. She was dying to ask Sarah about her last assignment, but didn't know if it was one of the questions that would get her in a load of trouble.

"So, uh, why did you want to meet?"

"I... needed to see a friendly face. I haven't had much contact with a lot of people. After what happened with Bryce and then Ch-..." She swallowed, not finishing the last word.

Bryce, right. Carina had heard about Sarah's boyfriend, even before she was recruited into Team Intersect. He had gone rogue, blown up a building and been shot by, of all people, Casey. After becoming Casey's and Chuck's team member though, she'd heard that he was probably still alive and that Casey had chased him around the globe, without ever being able to confirm if it was really him or not. Chuck didn't speak about it very often, she only overheard him talking to Casey about "chasing the Zombie" when they were sitting in the mess. She didn't think Sarah knew anything about that though, so she only said:

"Right, I've heard about him. How you holding up?"

Sarah looked up and her eyes seemed a little more moist than before. Taking a sip of her previously untouched water and clearing her throat, she began to speak again.

"I... It hasn't been the same since he died. I got another assignment right after that and..." She swallowed again interrupting herself. "Thanks for asking though." The smile she directed at Carina failed miserably.

Carina was even more curious now. Was Sarah still mourning Bryce's death? She hadn't seen her since, so she considered it possible. They had been a couple for years after all. But what about her assignment? Casey had hinted that Sarah knew Chuck, so her last mission had to have something to do with him. Considering that Chuck had told her that he never had any training before, it was possible that he had been some kind of analyst or asset before. She had asked Casey about him but he had only told her that they'd only been working together for a few weeks before she was added to the team.

"So you were injured on your last mission?" Carina ventured, trying to help her friend, maybe somehow appease her curiosity and not be charged for treason at the same time. "How?"

"I-" It obviously was painful for Sarah to relive the memories. Carina knew damn well what that was like.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I... I want to. I've only talked to the agency shrink and you know you can't really talk to them if you want to keep your job."

"Do you?" Carina wasn't sure but thought she'd heard something in her friend's voice.

"What?" Sarah asked, seeming confused.

"Keep your job?"

"I... don't know. Graham offered me a position as a teacher at the farm, but I'm not sure if that's really my thing. Being an agent is all I've know for years..."

"I know what you mean." Carina cleared her throat. "So what did happen on your last mission?"

Playing with her glass, Sarah took her time before she started speaking. "I... I wasn't careful enough. I got taken and..." Pictures of her first and last evening at the Bartowski's flickered through her head. Dinner with Ellie, pretending to be Chuck's new girlfriend. Trying to find out if Casey had killed Zarnow. Being tranqued and kidnapped. Chuck... No, she couldn't go there. Not now.

"You were tortured." Carina surmised after a wile, taking that as her friend's reason for seeming so... disturbed. "I'm sorry."

Sarah just nodded. She didn't trust herself to do anything else.

They didn't talk for a while. Carina's drink had already gotten lukewarm a while ago and the ice had already melted, but she didn't care. When Sarah started speaking again, she almost jumped.

"I... My last assignment was protecting an asset. When I was taken, he and Casey came to rescue me..."

"Casey?", Carina asked. She suspected that he and Sarah had worked together, but hadn't been sure until now. And the asset that Sarah was talking about...

"Yeah," Sarah laughed but it was a toneless laugh, devoid of anything resembling live. "He shot Bryce and we were partnered right after that. To get back what Bryce had stolen..."

"And your asset had gotten his hands on it?"

Sarah nodded. She ran one hand through her not-quite-shoulder-length hair and sighed. "He was the one they were looking for. When they came to rescue me, he was taken and..." She couldn't go on.

Carina had a very bad taste in her mouth. Something was seriously wrong here. Why would Sarah be so shaken up about a a kidnapped asset? No, it must have been the fact that she'd been tortured. Or Bryce's death.

"So, you uh, you failed your assignment?"

"I failed him, it was my fault, all of it. If I'd just known what Bryce would do..."

"Hey, you couldn't have known, you know that, Sarah."

"But I should have! And now, now he's dead and it's all my fault!" Sarah had gotten louder and louder during her rant and Carina knew she had to do something to stop her. Casey was already grunting in her ear and they weren't exactly secure here...

"Sarah." She tried to look into her friend's eyes. "It's not your fault that Bryce-"

"Bryce?" Sarah seemed perplexed. "Who cares about Bryce? He betrayed his country and my trust and..."

Now it was Carina's turn to be confused. Who was Sarah talking about then? Who had died? "Who were you talking about then? If you're not sorry about Bryce, then..." She shook her head. "Your asset? He died?"

"He was killed, Carina! Because I couldn't protect him. It was my job to protect him and I couldn't... I couldn't even..." Her voice seemed to fail her. Carina thought she saw something shiny under her friend's closed eyes but wasn't sure because the sun was blocking her from having a good view. For a moment she was distracted by how odd it all seemed, so inappropriate, that it was a nice, warm day and the only thing she felt was a weird chill that was crawling up her back. She lightly shook her head when suddenly, something else occurred to her. She hoped she wouldn't get fired for this... or worse. But for some reason, she just had to know.

"Sarah." Her friend didn't look up. "Sarah, who was your asset?"

Suddenly, she raised her head and looked her friend in the eyes. Carina saw what she had already suspected she would: She'd been crying. When she opened her mouth to speak though, her voice was steady and calm.

"He was an amazing man, Carina. You should have seen him, his friends, his family. There was just something about him. I'll never forget him. I can't, I couldn't, not even if I wanted to, Carina." She smiled at her friend and it was a real smile, Carina noticed.

"His name was-"

And just when Carina thought her suspicions would be confirmed, all hell broke loose.

**P/N: **Your thoughts are always welcome and if you're feeling generous, how about a chapter for this story? Hope to see your addition soon…yeah, I'm talking to you…and you too…get your finger out of your nose and get writing. JT


	9. Chapter 9SWBBR 33days ACD by Chuckreader

**P/N: **Hers another chapter for the Sarah Walker, Broken Beyond Repair Challenge. I had someone point out that this story seems to jump around and Aerox was right…it does. This chapter was submitted by Chuckreader and takes place right around the same time as DocInOz's contribtuion…as I said when I first proposed this idea. I'll be posting everything that gets submitted and, eventually, I'll go back and re-organize the order of the chapters. For now, I'm just thrilled to have great writers from the ChuckFF'dom adding their own pieces to this puzzle. Remember, if you have something you'd like to add, just send it to me using my writer name…jaytoyz .. at that Yahoo place. Thanks to all of the writers who've taken some time to play in this 'sandbox' and bonus points to Chuckreader for adding a little 'Shate' to the mix. JT

**A/N: **This may seem out of place but I really liked what DocInOz did with the secondary characters so I gave them a nudge toward a place where I thought they might play a part in connecting with Sarah and, in the case of Jeff (brilliant Doc!), discovering what has happened to Chuck. I also needed to tear Shaw a new one… literally… before anyone decided to bring him into the story (over and over and over and over) and have Sarah declare that he's a good spy and a good man or, to borrow a line from The Big Bang Theory, that he's a thorough and gentle lover. I hope my contribution is worth a quick read and my thanks to JT for allowing me into this writers' commune.

**SW,BBR – 1 month ACD**

"Oh Morgan, what did you do to yourself?" Ellie was shocked at the scratches and bruises she found all over the bearded man's face. When she saw his name come up in the emergency room's list of patients she rushed over to treat Morgan herself.

Morgan looked down in shame as Ellie got to work with some antiseptic and gauze. His life had been spinning out of control since he had lost Chuck. He may have seemed like a directionless idiot before but he could count on Chuck to point him the right way when he veered off course. Chuck was Morgan's magnetic north and now he was gone.

"I got hit by a bus," he mumbled.

"What? How did you get hit by a bus?" Ellie replied with little surprise in her tone as she continued putting Morgan's face back together.

"Well, technically, it was the side mirror on the bus that got me. I was outside of Bennigan's with Lester…"

"Mmhmm," Ellie absentmindedly urged him to continue, obviously missing the mention of Lester.

"Yeah, so anyway, Lester said I couldn't pull off the crane technique after everything we had to drink and I had to prove him wrong. I'd just gotten my knee in the air and my arms above my head when the number 13 bus pulled up to the curb and hit me in the face with its mirror. Miyagi said 'one can no defense' the crane technique but he's obviously never faced off with the number 13 bus."

Ellie, having put the finishing touches on Morgan's injuries began to replay in her mind what she'd just heard.

"Morgan," she began, "you've got to get your act together. Why are you hanging out with Lester anyway?"

"Lester said that Jeff is on some super secret mission and that he stopped drinking and now had his head stuck in his computer all the time. Some sort of national security thing, he said. Lester needed a new drinking buddy so I volunteered."

"Wait Morgan… you're the new Jeff Barnes?"

"I guess so. And, if I do say so myself, I'm doing one heck of a j…."

"Shut up Morgan. This has to stop. What would Chuck say about this behavior? He always wanted you to be the best Morgan you can be but instead you're sinking to become the lowest common denominator. He believed in you… and I believe in you."

Morgan's eyes immediately pointed to the floor as Chuck's name was brought up. He knew he was a disappointment but he's always been a sidekick. Chewy to Chuck's Han. He didn't know what to do without guidance.

"Listen Morgan, I want you to come and stay with Devon and me for a while. Get out of your mom's place and spend some time with us. We can help each other through this and maybe we can all get ourselves on the right path. Okay?"

"Wow Ellie! You want me to live with you? Any chance we could have Captain Awesome move out so he isn't such a third wheel?" Morgan took Ellie's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Eww gross!" she yelped, shaking her hand free. "Don't make me regret my offer."

"What offer is that babe?" Devon asked as he walked into the room. "Whoa Morgan, what happened to your grill man? It's all jacked up. You look like you got hit by a bus."

As Morgan's shoulders slumped Ellie gave him a sympathetic look.

"Devon, Morgan did get hit by a bus."

"The number 13," Morgan mumbled with some measure of humiliation.

"I've asked him," Ellie continued, "to come and stay with us for a while so he can get himself back on track. Everyone sort of went their separate ways after we lost Chuck…" she paused with her throat catching a sob. "I thought it would be good to spend some time together."

"Awesome idea. I'll help Morgan move some of his stuff over to our place tonight while you're working. I'm just getting off shift now. You wouldn't believe the guy who was brought in a while ago. There was a lot of security around him. Some sort of super secret agent named Shawn or Flaw or something. The guy apparently was thrown off a building last night and landed on a bike with no seat that was parked in a dark alley downtown. Do you believe that?" he asked looking at his audience of two.

"I guess that guy won't be walking anytime soon," Morgan answered with a wince and noticeable move into a defensive position that Chuck might have recognized as the 'Half-Morgan.'

"Won't be walking ever again bro. They just brought him in an hour ago and he'd been laying in the gutter all night. We might have had a chance to save him if we'd gotten to him immediately but, like I said, he was there a long time. Sometime during the night the sewer rats got to him too."

"Oh, gross," Ellie moaned.

"Yeah," Devon kept going as if both of them really wanted to hear this, "the rats just kept chewing on his injuries and he kept bleeding. They'd gnaw and dig in and it went on for hours before someone found him and called for help. Poor bastard. So let me take Morgan off your hands so you can get back to work."

"Thanks honey," Ellie said with a smile. "I'll see you both at home."

"Come on Morgan," Devon boomed, "let's go get some tacos!"

"Right behind you Captain."

**P/N:2 **Thoughts?


	10. SWBBR8monthsACD  Uplink2 & ltsheppard

**P/N: **Oh yeah, ltsheppard(that's an L) and Uplink2 crosspollinated and you the readers are the lucky recipients. Remember, if you have soemthing you like to add, send it to me. I will post it and when the story nears it's completion, I'll go back and rearrange the chapters so they're in so semblance of order. JT

P.S. Made a couple of small changes as suggested by ltsheppard that should make this great chapter just a tad easier to read...no new words, just re-affirmed the breaks.

**A/N: **This chapter is a collaboration between me (Ltsheppard) and uplink2. He's been so inspired by my previous chapter that he couldn't wait for me to write the follow-up and did so himself. And if I'm allowed to say, I like it! Now, just for those who want to know, his part (the one that follows directly to what happened in chapter 8) was a bit longer than what I've combined with my storyline but I've edited a bit out and changed a word here and there, removed some typos, just so that the chapter would flow a bit more seamlessly (and that there were no contradictions). Now if you're confused by the timeline, that's deliberate. I wanted a bit of chaos in this one and hope it carries over (in a good way, if that's possible). If you got any questions, feel free to ask. I hope you'll like it!

**Chapter 10 - Things are not what they seem**

**1 month BCD**

This was hell. It had to be. Literal, damned, freaking _hell_. Sarah Walker was sure of it. Her mouth was dry, her whole body in flames, her heart beat like it was trying to jump out of her chest. Her hands were shaking, she couldn't speak, couldn't move. This was hell. Or at least some kind of preliminary stage. Limbo or something. Yes. That had to be it. She was going to die here. She knew that she'd be going to hell eventually. There was no doubt. She'd done a lot of bad things in her life, killed people, people she didn't even know and hadn't bothered to get to know. Criminals, assets, civilians. She didn't like it but it was her job. Something she was good at. The best. Even if the nightmares had made her want to quit since the very first time, she knew she couldn't. There was no redemption, no salvation. Not for people like here.

But she wondered why it had to be this painful. This _was_ hell.

"Sarah?" No answer. "Uh, Sarah?"

She blinked. Once, twice, maybe a third time, she didn't know. And she was amazed that she had be able to.

"Uhm, while I appreciate... all... this, uh, could you, maybe, help me open this door now?"

"What?" Suddenly she began to regain consciousness again, the fog clouding her vision slowly lifting from her eyes. She was sitting in her Porsche, parked in front of the BuyMore. Leaning over to the driver's side, he had his hand halfway to the door, trying to help her prying it open, because for some reason it had decided to stay closed. His face was inches from hers and she could feel his breath ghosting over her neck.

"The door, Sarah. It's stuck and I can't get it open from my seat if you're not helping."

"Uh, right." She pushed and it swung open with a creak (she really wondered what the hell was wrong with her car), sending Chuck almost flying before he could stop his fall by grabbing her headrest.

"Sorry."

Chuck shook his head, smiled and got out on his side of the car.

Sarah leaned her head back for a moment, just where Chuck's hand had been a few seconds ago. She was going to die here, either from always having to be around this... guy, pretending to be his girlfriend, lying to his sister, his friends, to him, or because tonight Zarnow would "cure" Chuck, making her stay here unnecessary. Yes, Sarah Walker would die and whoever she had buried deep down, under all her training, unresolved childhood issues and compartmentalized emotions was incredibly happy and sad at the same time.

She was certain. This was hell.

She was wrong.

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"Major Casey, what in the name of god has happened down there?"

Casey was standing in General Diane Beckman's office, his muscles as tense as they'd never been before. He had known his superior for years, almost decades. This was the first time he was really afraid of her.

"General..." He swallowed. "One minute everything was fine. Then it all went to-"

"Hell." Beckman sighed.

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"His name was-"

"Do NOT finish that sentence, Walker!" The sound of five agents in full tactical gear accompanied the arrival of the NSA Major.

"Casey? What the hell?" Her eyes were still shining with tears.

"Carina, I told you this was a bad idea."

Sarah looked around and saw three agents pointing guns at her. Another two kept theirs on Carina.

"You set me up? How could you do this to me, Carina?" Sarah stood up as she reached for her cane.

"Walker, if you answer that question I'll have to place you under arrest for treason!" The sternness of Casey's voice told her he meant every word.

Seeing something ins his peripheral view, Casey looked over at a stunned bartender who was about to press the alarm button under the bar and alert the local police. "I wouldn't press that button unless you want a whole lot of government investigators crawling up your ass for the next year."

The bartender quickly put his hands up and backed away from the bar, leaning against the shelves stacked with bottles of liquor. The glass rattled at the sudden movement.

Holding up his badge, he continued. "This is a national security issue and everyone needs to kindly stay where they are while we deal with it. Walker, Miller, come with me."

"The names's Barstow now, Casey." Sarah glared at her former partner with disdain. Turning her attention back to her friend, the pain of betrayal was very evident in her voice. "I can't believe you set me up, Carina! I thought you were my friend." She stopped and glared at her.

Carina swallowed to clear her dry throat before she finally spoke. "Sar.. Christine, I'm sorry. This is not what it looks like."

"How could it not be what it looks like? I contact an old friend to get together and it turns out said friend is wearing a wire? What the hell could possibly be misinterpreted about that?"

Casey, standing next to the two (now probably former) friends interjected. "Walker, you were about to leak classified government secrets and I couldn't let that happen."

Ignoring Casey entirely, Sarah turned her attention back to the redhead. "Why were you wearing a wire Carina and why the hell do you have backup? Do I look like I would be a threat to you?" Sarah motioned to her cane and busted knee with her free hand.

"It's not that! You have to believe me!" Carina looked at Casey trying to gauge how far she could go. "Casey and I have been on a very sensitive mission and wherever either one of us goes as backup. That's all." There it was. A white lie.

"Damn it, Carina, this is me you're talking to. Do you really think this was necessary? And if you knew Casey was listening, then why the hell did you ask me a question you had to know Casey would react to unless you were trying to set me up?"

"I'm sorry, but you were obviously hurting and when I saw what had happened to you I thought maybe if you talked to me about it you might somehow feel better about whatever is bothering you. I didn't think you would say anything classified." Another white lie.

Casey, looking back and forth between the two female agents, felt conflicted. He was stunned to see the condition the legendary Sarah Walker still was in and it was clear that her belief that Bartowski was dead was causing her an impossible amount of pain and guilt but he had been ordered to keep Chuck's status and that of all of Team Intersect a secret. Specifically from the obviously broken agent in front of him. He couldn't let Miller incriminate herself by telling her friend that her guilt was unfounded and that Chuck was very much alive.

"Hey as much as you two seem to want to share all of your lady feelings and cause me to throw up, we need to get going. We have another mission to prepare for. But first we are going to have to have a bit of a talk with the General about your attempt to get a fellow agent to reveal classified information about a previous mission." Casey knew it was his duty to report his partner, but he didn't have to like it.

Carina looked over at the NSA agent and rolled her eyes. "Fine Casey, I'm sure it will be a real pleasurable conversation. Almost as much fun as the one we had in Prague."

Casey glared and Carina just smirked. Teasing the straight laced NSA agent about getting handcuffed to the bed in Prague just never got old.

Carina looked back at the blonde standing next to her. What she saw still disturbed her. It was obvious that the loss of her asset had damaged Sarah. She was nothing like the woman she had been partnered with a couple of years ago. It was obvious that her heart had been shattered and broken into a million pieces.

"Christine, I'm sorry about all this but we have to go. It was great seeing you again and I hope whatever you decide to do with your future you'll find happiness somehow."

Sarah looked at her best friend and saw empathy in her eyes. With all of Carina's faults (and there were many) she still tried to be a good person. And with what had happened, she was about the only friend she had left in this world.

Carina stepped forward and pulled Sarah into a hug. As Casey turned his head, Carina whispered into Sarah's ear quietly enough that the tall NSA Agent couldn't hear. "Saker är inte alltid vad de verkar i början. Kom ihåg Bali."*

Sarah stiffened slightly but held on to the redhead for a few seconds more, calming herself, before she let go. With a peck on her cheek the two friends let go, their hands lingering just a second, Carina's fingers lightly brushing the handle of Sarah's cane. Sarah blinked her eyes and Carina knew she had heard what she had said.

"Goodbye Carina, be safe." Turning to her all too short lived former partner she added a simple "Casey" and nodded.

Nodding minutely and turning to walk away, the gruff, by-the-books agent showed something he rarely did: He stopped halfway around the building, turned back around and looked at what was left of the once proud CIA agent he had been partnered with and told her: "Wa... Barstow, it wasn't your fault. I hope that someday you can learn to believe that."

He only got a small smile in return. It was the last thing he would see for a while.

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"This is what _hell_ must feel like."

Smith snorted. "Oh, come on Carmicheal. Don't be such a wuss about it."

"You beat the living crap out of me! Look!" Chuck showed his sparring partner his bruising left arm and stomach. "And you hit me in the frigging nose too!" His cheek had already began swelling from the right hook he'd received just before the left had scraped his olfactory organ.

"I always thought it didn't fit your style. Distracted from your chocolate eyes, you know?" He was laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, man. I'm gonna get you one of these days." Despite the pain, Chuck was smiling as well. Well, as much as he could with a split lip and swelling cheek. And that damn nose bleeding on his shirt. "I _just_ got this out of the dryer this morning!"

Smith made a grunt-y noise that reminded Chuck of Casey. Just as he was about to ask if he knew him, his colleague started to speak again.

"Come on. We should let the girls at the infirmary look at this. If you're not careful, you're gonna bleed on my shirt too, and I really don't need the guys to think that was me." With a smile he directed Chuck out of the gym and down the hall, towards the nurse's station.

"Carmicheal!" They turned around. An older looking brunette walked up to them and handed Chuck an envelope. "General Beckman wants to see you in her office ASAP."

"Really?", Chuck asked. "I'm _bleeding_ from my _nose_, here. Can't I go and get it patched up first?"

The woman, one of Beckman's aides most likely, shook her head in the negative. "I'm sorry, but she told me that I'd have to kick your ass up there if you didn't see her _immediately._"

Chuck heaved a sigh. "I can _not_ believe this. I'm in NSA hell."

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"Damn it, Miller!" Casey was running through a field of deformed chairs and tables, some of them still fuming or burning. He almost hit one that had been melted to almost half its size.

"Miller! Walker!" Nothing. _Oh, hell_.

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Slowly, she drifted back to consciousness. The first thing she noticed was that her arms hurt like hell and that she seemed to be standing. Opening her eyes, she saw nothing but blackness. Trying to walk, she felt something tug on her wrists, not letting her go further than maybe a feet.

"My wrists are chained to the ceiling," Sarah observed wordlessly. She wondered if this was one of her nightmares or if she finally went down to the pit. Her head hurt like hell and she couldn't remember anything other getting ready for a meet with Carina.

"So nice of you to finally grace us with waking up, Agent Walker.", she heard a male voice, coming from somewhere in the dark.

She didn't think she recognized the voice. "Who are you?" She asked more out of habit than anything else. She really didn't care.

"My name won't mean anything to you. But I have a name for you to think about."

Sarah staid silent. She did _not_ like that voice.

"Charles Irving Bartowski, Chuck to his friends, as I've heard." The voice announced and she heard a weird, clicking, metallic sound echo in the dark space. She gasped and sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the pain.

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Carina was swimming. Everything felt like thick, gooey water. She was gasping for air and only felt herself drowning more with every tried breath. She remembered a sharp pain in the head and then... nothing.

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"What the _hell_ is going on, General? I've been told I had to come to your office _immediately_. I couldn't even get myself patched up before!" Smith had shoved a few paper towels in his hand and had put one on his neck to stop the bleeding. Then he'd left to go find one of the nurses and send her up to Beckman's office.

"You should sit down, Agent Bar-... Agent Carmichael." Beckman answered, wearily.

"General?" Looking at Beckman's disheveled appearance, Chuck swallowed and sat down quickly.

The older woman sighed and took a moment to look at him. "We've lost contact with Agents Miller and Casey. They-"

"Was there a mission, General? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"There... was no mission. Carina met with a... an old acquaintance and Casey came as backup, taking a handful of agents with him."

"An 'acquaintance', General? Whose friend is so dangerous that you have to take a dozen of government agents with you?"

"You know well what dangers we face. There is no black and white in this world, Agent."

Chuck just nodded his understanding, not really sure if he'd ever do. Taking a breath, he had to force himself to continue.

"What happened?" His voice sounded small and raspy, even to his own ears. He really didn't want to hear Beckman's answer. He didn't. He'd already lost his past life, his friends, his family, Sar-... no, he was _not_ going there. He couldn't lose his damn partners as well. They were good people, he knew they were.

"They were supposed to meet in a small café downtown. We've received reports of an explosion-"

Chuck didn't hear the rest. He didn't need to. His last thoughts before passing out were:

"They didn't deserve this", "Whoever did this: Burn in hell!" and strangely "I hope the General thinks it's the blood loss".

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After a moment or maybe an hour, she didn't know, she heard the voice come from another direction, this time from behind her, or maybe on her left...

"I think you know just who I mean.", it whispered in her ear. "Where is he, Agent Walker?" She saw something light up in the dark, next to her ear but couldn't turn her head far enough to see what exactly it was.

"He's dead." She got out, barely above a whisper. "I lost him."

She heard laughter. It sounded... weird... in this place. "Then again," she thought, "I'm sure the devil's a laugher." For a second she wondered where that even came from.

"Very good, agent. You really are one of the best. Now tell me what I want to know, or I'll make your life-" He stopped for a second to clack his tongue. "- or what's left of it, very... _unpleasant_."

"No", she heard a voice in her head say. Surprisingly, it was calm, decided. "This is not a dream. You really are being tortured. There's a chain wrapped to your arms, just like last time. But this time, he won't save you." Sarah didn't know if she should be happy that she wouldn't have to see him die again because of her.

"Don't think you'll come out of here alive!" As if he'd heard her thoughts he added after after a short pause: "No one is coming to save you, there's no one left." The tone was angry, almost seething.

"This is _hell_, Agent Walker!"

"No", she heard herself say, her voice as calm and unwavering as the one she'd heard in her head. "Once you've been to hell, you never come back. And I'm _already_ there."

She heard a growl and felt a dull pain in her head. She didn't care. No pain anybody could inflict on her flesh could ever be worse than what she was already feeling in her heart.

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*Swedish for: "Things aren't always what they seem at first. Remember Bali."

**A/N²**: If you find out what kind of object made that metallic noise, you'll get another chapter from me! :D


	11. SW:BBR712daysACD3hrsAFCbyAerox

**P/N: **As promised I'll post anything you want to send in…especially when it involves great story telling, like this chapter from **Aerox**…and does give us, and by us I mean anyone who wants to come play in this sandbox…a time frame to work in…so, how about you? Wanna tell the story of one(or two) of the guys Sarah actually dated?(of course they didn't measure up, now tell us why)...wanna tell the story of their second first date?(did it involve them moving from handcuffs and a radiator to hand cuffs and something else?)...wanna tell the story of how they almost ran into each other at some silly office Christmas party that neither one of them was actually invited to?...bring us(the Sarah Walker:Broken Beyond Repair gang) your story. JT P.S. I shortened the 'disappearnce' time by just a little, sorry Aerox.

**A/N: **So, this is what a few people have been waiting for. The beginnings of Charah... sorta. Pay heed to how far in the future this is, leaving plenty of wiggle room for things to come ;) Just thought I'd do us all a favor and mark a clear reunion spot.

**712 days ACD/Three hours AFC (After Finding Chuck)**

"You lied to me!" she shouted. "You all lied to me!"

"Ma'am, please stay calm."

"How can I be calm when the agency I had served for so long turned its back on me? How can you expect me to be calm when the man that I was sure was dead turns out to be alive and well? How can you?"

"Ma'am, you're not making a lot of sense. Please calm down."

"I don't care," she yelled again. "You all made me think I was a failure, a worthless agent, while all this time you kept him from me!"

The security agent grabbed his walkie-talkie. "This is agent Henderson, requesting back-up in the lobby, possibly unstable female, early thirties, brown hair."

"And tell them to send Langston Graham down too!" she yelled, loud enough to be heard through the walkie-talkie.

She kept in the man's face, screaming and shouting at the incredulity of it all. When the pounding of multiple synchronous footsteps broke through her tirade, her mouth clacked shut.

Three men, all in typical G-Men suits, and a woman in a business suit with her dark blonde hair in a bun, strode to her. "Miss Barstow, how nice to see you again. We didn't think we would see you here so soon. How long has it been? Over a year since you vanished?"

"Who are you?" she asked. "And how do you know who I am?"

"Did you forget who you were talking to… agent Walker?"

One of the G-Men blinked. "Agent Walker? Agent Sarah Walker? She's a damn legend! This is her?"

"Stand down, agent Marlowe. Yes, this is agent Sarah Walker, who after an unfortunate incident with her asset went off-grid. We ought to have you arrested for going AWOL." The woman regarded Sarah, or Christine as she had come to name herself, silently. Despite the threat that hung in the air, the woman didn't seem very interested in arresting her.

"An accident, that didn't turn out to be an accident but rather an extraction of which I was unaware. An 'accident' that made me feel like a failure. An accident that tore a family apart for no other reason than the CIA's belief that I was _compromised with my asset_." She spat the last few words, the venom in her voice unmistakable. "And who the hell are _you?_"

"Miranda Jones, DNI. I took over after Graham was assassinated a year ago."

"Was he in on it too?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm. She had no idea that her mentor was killed and despite the animosity she felt toward the man, it felt wrong to hold ill will toward the dead.

"He signed off on it, yes."

"Then I honestly don't see why I would care. I've spent the better part of my adult life fighting for this country, doing its dirty work. And you can't even have the goddamn courtesy to be straight with me? You couldn't have told me that you thought I was compromised? Instead, you decide to take matters into your own hands? Is that how it is?"

"That depends, agent Walker. _Were_ you compromised?"

Make or break time. She could admit out loud what she had known for a while now, and finally make it official. She could tell them how wonderful he truly was, how those two weeks had turned out to be nothing but spectacular. How the normalcy of it all warmed her heart more than she had cared to admit in the first couple of months after his death, but was eventually forced to admit was true.

"Agents don't get compromised by their assets. I was an agent. That should answer your question."

Of course had she just admitted to being compromised, the chances of her being allowed to ever see him would shrink into the negatives.

"I see you choose to use the past tense there, agent Walker. Should we see this as your resignation letter?" she asked, stifling a chuckle.

"I handed in my resignation when it became clear that my only possible job opportunity would be to stand in front of a classroom where I would have to relive my failures over and over again."

"You could've qualified as an agent. After all, your leg seems to be doing a lot better now. You haven't used your cane in over a year. That is very impressive."

"How do you even know that?"

"Please, agent Walker. Would you really think that we were going to let you go out unsupervised? We've seen people take their life for less guilt than that which would land on your shoulders. Of course, we hadn't intended for you to be captured by Zarnow, so that the eventual disappearance of the asset wouldn't land on your shoulders so heavily, but it is what it is." She walked up to Sarah, and leaned in. "We know much more about you than you truly think we do," she whispered and when she pulled back, a victorious smirk was on her face. "So let's try that again. Were you compromised by your asset?"

"Clearly, you already know the answer to that."

"I do."

"Then why ask?"

"Because despite the hostility toward us from you, we did what we had to. We did what we knew was right. If you had stayed on his protection detail, he would've eventually ended up in a ditch or a dark hole somewhere. Would you rather have that on your conscience? At least with this method, it could've been an accident. An unfortunate accident, sure. But would you rather have seen him shot right before your eyes? Watch as the life would drain out of him as his blood would spread over the concrete? I doubt you would've, agent Walker. And that's why we did what we had to do."

Sarah began to shake with repressed rage. Rage against the organization that had tricked her. Rage at Casey for keeping it a secret. Rage at Carina, at Graham, at the whole damn world. Yes, even rage against Chuck for not defying his superiors to see her. He had to know. He had to know how much his death affected her. And he didn't do a damn thing about it.

She turned and stormed off, leaving stunned employees and one smug Director in her wake. She hopped in her car and sped through traffic like a maniac, racing back to her hotel room. It was pure luck, finding him. He had shaved off his curls, opting for a smart look that suited him very well, but the moment she locked eyes with him, she knew. Of course, had she not run after Casey as she saw him walking down the streets, she would've never found him. Or the fact that Jeff had informed Ellie, who in turn had informed Sarah through email, that Chuck was still alive. They had both dismissed it at first. Sarah had shoved the thought off of her as the drunken musings from a rambling lunatic that Jeff undoubtedly was. But the thought had gotten stuck in her brain, and it had put her on edge, her finely honed spy senses working on overdrive, until finally she had seen Casey a few months later.

She entered her hotel room, to find things exactly as she left him. She grabbed some smelling salts and broke the capsule under Chuck's nose, who came to sputtering. He locked eyes with her, and a small grin played on his lips. "Hi."

"Explain," she said, her voice rigid.

"You know, I always thought our reunion would be a bit happier. And y'know, in my imagination, I wouldn't be chained up to a radiator."

"Do you have any idea..." Sarah started, "...how much heartbreak you've caused me? Do you have _any_ indication at all?"

"Look, I'm sorry. It's just that..."

"I don't give a damn!" Sarah shouted. "I don't care about any of it at all. I _hated_ myself, Chuck. And not the usual amount of self-loathing either! I shed everything I had, shed it because it reminded me of you."

"I know," Chuck sighed. "I read the emails."

"Then _how could you_?" she asked, and she noticed that her eyes were wet, but she pressed on. "I even told you about how none of my goddamn new boyfriends or flings or whatever you want to call them could never compare to you and you _still_ didn't care enough to let me know you were alive." She furiously wiped at her eyes as Chuck sat still, not uttering a single word. "And the one person who I thought could be someone that would come within a mile of what you meant to me turned out to be Fulcrum, so obviously my internal radar was shot to hell and... and you!"

"Me?"

"You! You knew! You saved me."

"I... yeah... yeah, I did. I couldn't let him capture you, Sarah. I just couldn't."

"But you _could_ let me continue to live in heartbreak?"

"I... I only did what they told me to, Sarah. You of all people have to realize in what position they had put me."

"I... I can't see you right now, Chuck. I have to go." She flung the small silver key that unlocked his handcuffs at him and stalked out. "If you're still here after I'm back, we'll talk. If not, you have a good life, Chuck."

The door slammed shut and the only thing Chuck could whisper in reply was, "I'll be here... I won't leave you anymore."

**A/N2: **So, I left this pretty open ended. People who want to pick up directly after this are more than welcome to. Hope you enjoyed.


	12. SW:BBR 7monthsACD by JustMyLuckiness

**P.N./ **Well, here's a new addition to the 'Challenge'…I want to extend a big 'Thank you' to _JustMyLuckiness _for this great contribution. If you haven't taken the time to get to know his story _Nightshift, _please check it out, you'll be glad you did…after you read this, of course. Please remember that anyone is more than welcome to add to this little AU…just drop me a note. Either with a PM or by sending it to jaytoyz at yahoo…the only rules are that Chuck and Sarah are going to get together and…well, I guess that's really the only rule. If you have an idea, write and send, it'll get added. Eventually I'll be reorganizing the chapters so they follow a timeline but, for now, anything that gets submitted, gets added. Come play in the sandbox…you'll be glad you did. If you liked the chapter, reviews would be great or you can send JML a PM. _JT_

**A/N: **Greetings! jaytoyz gave me the idea for this chapter's contribution to his awesome collaborative effort, and darn it all if it didn't start my wheels turning. After all, writing the canon's Carina on a mission at the Hedonism resort was way too much fun!

This takes place approximately seven months after Chuck's faked death, right around the end of season 1 according to the canon timeline.

Oh – the mention of the blonde skank early on is a backhanded tribute to Adorable Psycho. If you haven't read those, I strongly urge you. Those are so much fun!

Hope you all enjoy!

I don't own Chuck or the resort in question. I'm making no profits from this.

**Chapter XX – 7 months ACD**

Chuck's eyes got huge at the General's instructions, "You have _got _to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath as his forehead found the table.

"Now THIS is my kind of mission!" Carina purred excitedly as she slowly caressed Chuck's back, "Oh don't be so sad, Chuck. I promise I will take care of you on this trip. You'll be in _very_ good hands," she finished with a lascivious tone and a wink.

Casey just grunted and wandered back to the armory to find a gun to clean. _Better them than me. I wouldn't want to get drunk and do something stupid like get an embarrassing tattoo._

Chuck rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh as they walked into the resort, "You have _got _to be kidding me," he groaned. The overly-excited nature of his companion wasn't doing anything for his mood either. Carina spent the flight to Jamaica almost bouncing off the cramped airplane walls. After the third time she climbed over him to walk up and down the aisle, he had given in and slid over to the window seat. Some of her trips over him had taken much longer than he thought was necessary, and as he scooted over, Chuck could have sworn he caught a fleeting glimpse of disappointment on her face.

After an hour of her bubbling excitement, Chuck had mentally shut down and pretended to sleep so he could have an excuse to go over the mission objectives. Two operatives from a heretofore only rumored group known as Fulcrum were holding a meeting to pass some data which, if in the hands of the CIA, would provide crucial insights into the group's goals and structure. So far, the whispers about Fulcrum seemed more fairly-tale than hard fact, but the one thing every rumor agreed on was that they were trying to supplant the current intelligence agency leadership to further their own goals.

_I really wish they had chosen a difference place for this meeting, _Chuck thought ruefully as he stared up at the sign reading 'Welcome to Hedonism!' above the door. He heaved another sigh and allowed Carina to drag him inside.

As they walked in, the blonde concierge behind her desk took a long, up-and-down look at Chuck and broke into a hungry smile. "Welcome to Hedonism," she drawled, sticking her chest out just a little bit more than was necessary, "My name's Sam. What can I do to – I mean what can I do for you today?"

Carina rolled her eyes at the slip, but became much more possessive when she saw Chuck smile back at the receptionist and blush. She linked her arm firmly through Chuck's and kissed his cheek before shooting a death glare at the perky blonde behind the counter, "Excuse me, but _my boyfriend_ and I would like to check in."

Chuck's eyes grew huge as Carina reached down and squeezed his ass, "Hi-o!" He hurriedly reached down and removed Carina's hand, taking the opportunity to clasp it in his own, "Yes, we would like to check in, Miss…" he blushed as he looked for the woman's name tag and saw that it was clipped to the bottom of the strap of her bikini top, directly above her… "Havealot. Miss Havelot," he stammered as an oddly feminine growl sounded to his right. "We would like to check into our room."

Carina pasted on her best fake smile and turned on the saccharine charm, "Preferably one with soundproofed walls. We can be a little…loud," she finished with a salacious wink. If possible, Chuck turned even redder.

The concierge looked down at her computer in embarrassment, but quickly found their reservation, "Yes, Mr. Carmichael and Miss Callaghan. I have you in one of our best suites. Room 969," and with that statement, she handed Chuck a card.

Looking over his shoulder, Carina's eyes flashed in amusement and anticipation when she saw under the room number two words: 'au naturel'. She smiled her thanks at the concierge, and this time the smile reached her eyes. It quickly left when she saw the concierge's eyes follow Chuck's ass all the way to the elevator.

Once she sent the bellhop on his way with a saucy wink she made sure Chuck saw, Carina whirled on him with fire blazing in her eyes, "Just what the hell was that?"

Startled by her sudden aggression, Chuck blanched and dropped his backpack, "What was what? What the hell are you talking about?"

Hands on her hips, she faced him with a death glare, "Downstairs! What was with you flirting with Skanky McPerkyboobs? We have a cover to maintain, Chuck!"

"Why are you so angry? All I did was smile at her!" a sudden thought occurred to him, "and while we're on the subject, what was with that flirty wink you threw at the bellhop?"

A dozen thoughts, none related to their cover, flew through her head, but it was easier to fall back on the mission. During their six months working together, she found herself fighting an attraction to the nerd with increasing difficulty. Something about his warm eyes and equally warm, welcoming personality drew her in, and it didn't hurt that he was very easy on the eyes, once she saw past the Nerd Herd exterior. _So many nights wondering if his hands were good for more than delicate electronic repairs…_

"You forced me to when you were flirting downstairs. I had to flirt a little so it didn't seem like you were the only one ready to step out on us!" Chuck returned her glare, but she cut off his response with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Enough! We're on our vacation, Chuck, not here to bicker about your strange attraction to blonde skanks. We need to get ready to figure out who the Fulcrum agent and his contact is. I think our first step should be to unpack, get a little rest, and then head down to the beach to play up our cover and see if you flash on anyone."

Sighing in defeat, Chuck nodded, "Ok, that's a good plan," he turned to pick up his bag when a rustling caught his ears. As he looked for the sound, Chuck saw a flourish of floral fabric puddle on the floor out of the corner of his eye. Turning fully, his brain shut down completely, focused only on extremely alluring display of jiggling skin as he saw his fully nude partner walk away from the sundress on the floor with as much sway in her hips as she could manage. "Carina!"

Her musical laugh floated back toward him, "Check the room information, Chucky. We have to maintain our cover...so to speak."

He turned his gaze – with extreme difficulty – down to the key envelope and saw the words 'au naturel'. "Dammit. Weren't you just saying something about _maintaining_ a cover, Carina?"

Later in the day, after each had taken the time to shower, they made their way down to the beach. Carina giggled to herself at how Chuck turned from pasty white to blushing so furiously that he looked sunburned at her bikini. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him mutter something under his breath as they walked out toward the beach.

"What was that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Realizing he was caught, he stopped on the sand and looked her in the eye – after stopping twice on the way up – and said, "I said your 'bathing suit' really looks more like postage stamps held together with dental floss."

Carina cocked an elegantly-manicured eyebrow and cocked her hips. "Are you complaining, Mr. Carmichael?"

"I, well that is to say, I'm not…you know what, I'll just go with a safe 'no' on that one. You look…amazing. I'm just not really used to being around a woman like you," he stammered out.

If anything, Carina was even more surprised, "Really? You're not a virgin, are you, Chuck?" _There aren't many women who could resist that boy-next-door charm and those eyes for too long. He can't be a virgin!_

"No! No, I'm not. It's just..."

When Chuck trailed off in frustration, Carina saw something in his expression that triggered her sympathy. He looked pained, as if the conversation dredged up something out of his past. She reached out and took his hand in hers and squeezed gently, "What is it?" she asked in a soft voice.

He dropped his head in defeat before turning and walking toward two empty beach chairs in front of them. It did not escape his notice that Carina never let go of his hand. Once they set their bags around the chairs, she took his hands and leaned in for a kiss. Noticing how he tensed up, she whispered, "Just to reinforce the cover, Chuck," at which he visibly relaxed.

After they broke apart and sat back on the chairs to ostensibly soak up the sun while they watched people around them in various states of undress, Carina fixed him with a stare that was at once smoldering and demanding. "Why are you so flustered around me?"

Chuck ran a hand through his hair, "You asked if I was a virgin. I'm not, but it's close. My last girlfriend was also the only girl I ever slept with. We dated for the last two years at Stanford. When," he paused to take a breath and collect himself, during which Carina noticed how upset the memory made him, "when my roommate framed me for cheating, she dumped me and slept with him." As Carina's mouth gaped, she noticed his hands were shaking.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a thin brunette woman a couple hundred yards away, behind Chuck and to his left, openly staring at him. The way she was hungrily eyeing Chuck in his Speedo stirred something in Carina she couldn't identify, but it compelled her to jump up. "Chuck, I think you should roll over. Let me rub some sunscreen in while you tell me more about that stupid skank."

He tried to protest, but she was already kneeling by his chair and squirting the lotion into her hands. Without any more futile protests, he rolled onto his stomach. Carina's talented hands began working the lotion into his skin, simultaneously working the kinks out of his muscles. "Now, Chuck, what does that crazy woman have to do with you being so skittish around me?"

"Ohhh," – Carina hit a particularly sensitive spot just then – "She was very…reserved. Whenever we were together, she insisted the lights be turned off. I never even saw her naked. Then she turned around and slept with my roommate after he got me expelled. My only date since then was when I ended up getting recruited."

Carina's hands momentarily stilled. She was distracted by both his painful history and the surprisingly developed muscles he normally hid. "Chuck, I'm…that's terrible. I can't believe anyone could be that cruel to someone as nice as you are."

He grunted as she found another sore spot, "Thanks, Carina. Five years later, I'm not sure it makes much of a difference. Now because I'm just a loser who got kicked out of college, I can't ever get a job and move up in the world, and girls look at me and see a studio apartment and massive debt in their future."

Her hands found the last of the knots in his back. "Trust me, Chuck. You're far from a loser. You just need to find the right woman who sees you for who you really are."

Chuck looked at her in surprise at the softness of her tone, but as he opened his eyes, he saw a crowd of frat boys eyeing the back of her bikini. He quickly rolled over, stammering out, "That's good, Carina. I feel a lot better. Why don't I rub some suntan lotion onto you?"

Carina looked disappointed for a split second, but when she realized that meant Chuck would be rubbing lotion all over her body, she brightened up and quickly took his place on the chair, untying the string on her top as she did. Chuck glanced over his shoulder and was glad to see the frat boys were ogling someone else now that he switched positions with Carina. He turned back to his friend and partner, and momentarily lost his breath at the amount of perfectly tanned skin on display beneath him.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck squirted some lotion into his hands and started in the middle of her back at the safest place. Taking her groans of pleasure as a positive sign, he started a deeper massage.

"You got up awfully fast there, Chuck. Were you getting a tad…uncomfortable?" she purred as she shifted her shoulders at his touch. _Who knew nerds would be good with their hands in other ways?_

"I just wanted to make sure I took my turn helping you out. Fair is fair, Carina," he said warily. Her back was rapidly running out of real estate. Fortunately, she solved that problem for him by pulling her coppery hair away from her neck and then folding her arms back along her body.

As he started massaging higher, he became mesmerized by her neck. Normally hidden by her hair, when the hair was swept up, its length and delicacy belied her inner strength. So entranced by her deceptive beauty, he didn't hear the first two times she asked him a question, despite the vibrations in his fingertips from her speech.

"Wha – what did you say?" he stammered rapidly as he started rubbing the suntan lotion much faster.

"I asked you if you could tell me more about this ex of yours. Unless it's too painful, I mean. She sounds like a real bitch. I just can't believe someone would do that to you." Her eyes were still closed, hiding her true alertness to his touch. She knew exactly when he got distracted, and that was her time to ask him a sensitive question.

Still stammering after being caught staring, he started answering without adding his normal filter, "Well, we were introduced earlier at Stanford by my roommate and frat brother, Bryce," he felt her muscles suddenly tense at this revelation, "but at the end of my senior year, she slept with him right after he framed me for cheating and got me expelled."

Her breath caught as he started moving down her back again, but this time it wasn't because of his touch. Sarah's ex Bryce also went to Stanford, and the blonde had mentioned something about a problem he had right before graduation, but then the two had broken up under some dramatic circumstances. Chuck's friend Bryce had to be the same guy. The espionage world was smaller than most would expect, but for her to be working with the former roommate of her best friend's ex-boyfriend was just too strange of a coincidence to be believed easily.

Carina mentally chuckled when her masseur skipped over her ass and started working on her lower legs in an effort to prolong the experience. "Well, if it helps, I think she was a bimbo. You're a great guy, and even if it's not a remotely real relationship, you're a pretty awesome boyfriend, Chuck."

Chuck stopped rubbing, temporarily struck mute at her sincerity. "Thank you, Carina," he said quietly.

"You want to thank me properly? I'd like to be able to sit down this week, ok?" Carina replied saucily.

"Huh?" he replied dumbly.

Huffing at his denseness – but secretly thrilled she could reduce him to a babbling moron with just a flirtatious tone – she wiggled her posterior. "My butt, Chuck. I don't want to have to deal with a grilled ass this week."

This time she was sure she broke him. "Huh – wha – yea-…" Chuck trailed off, completely incoherent.

Carina giggled. Oh he was too cute for words when she did that to him. He'd need a little nudge in the right direction if he was going to fit in at Hedonism, so she reached back, untied the string at either hip, and flipped the back of her string bikini bottom down.

Seeing her exposed bottom finally broke Chuck out of his stupor. With shaking hands, he squeezed more sunscreen – mostly successfully – into his hands and started rubbing and massaging the example of physical perfection before him.

After a few moments of each enjoying their sensations, Carina looked over her shoulder and said, "Now how about making sure my front won't burn either, big boy?"

"Chuck? Hello? Oh dammit!" _Broke him again, _she mentally giggled.

Later that evening, after Carina generously allowed Chuck some time to recover from the sexually-charged atmosphere at the beach, she insisted they get ready for the masquerade party. After a couple hours though, they needed to prepare for the mission. In deference to her partner's lack of experience with women, she opted to ignore the nature of their room and at least put on some underwear, although when Chuck saw her choice of garment, he turned as red as if he got sunburned at the beach.

"Dammit, Carina! Are you _trying _to give me a heart attack?" Chuck's bulging eyes quickly dove back to the desk in front of him after seeing her attire.

Carina smirked to herself and stood with her hands on her hips, purposefully cocking them at an angle designed to catch his eye. _He's so cute when he gets nervous around me._ "Chuck, seriously, you have to stop getting nervous when you see a lot of skin. This is a club devoted to showing skin, so you'll see a lot of it. What if you have to entertain someone with our mark?"

Chuck swallowed hard at the thought, but when he saw what he took as derision in her eye, gritted his teeth and forced his eyes to travel slowly up her entire body – _my God her legs go on forever! _– without gulping in intimidation. _Charles Carmichael wouldn't be scared. _"I can do this."

Cocking an eyebrow, Carina looked at him inquisitively, "Are you sure? These people play for keeps, Agent Carmichael."

His face set in determination. Chuck stood up, strode purposefully over to Carina and grabbed the sides of her face. After a moment of gazing into her clear blue eyes, where he saw strength, purpose, and what he hoped was desire, he leaned in and kissed her as if his life depended on it. Several moments later, they broke the kiss. Carina had to catch her breath and blink a few times to clear her vision. When her eyes focused again, she saw warmth and caring in Chuck's own eyes, but also steel. "Charles Carmichael is fine," he said in a much deeper voice than normal. With that, he walked into the bedroom. It was several minutes before Carina calmed the fluttering of her heart and the wobbliness of her knees.

"This is ridiculous," Chuck whispered into his microphone.

Carina looked across the ballroom at him and grinned. "Do you mean the fact that we're trying to find someone at a masquerade party where we don't know their name or what they look like? Or do you mean the fact that our faces are the most covered part of our bodies?"

Two very voluptuous masked women sauntered past Chuck, tracing their fingers along his arms, then giggling and jiggling their way past him as his chest turned bright red. "How about all of the above?" he asked in a strained voice when his gaze returned to eye level.

"Relax, Chuck. You said the Intersect has sound and video to go with the pictures. Maybe you'll flash on someone's voice," Carina soothed. Chuck needed to be calm if their mission was going to have any chance of success. Still, she had trouble keeping her own eyes at eye level. If she hadn't seen it the day before on her much-longer-than-needed sunscreen application, Carina herself wouldn't have believed how well-built Chuck was.

She needed to be on overwatch, so she took a position by the bar, which was elevated above the main ballroom floor. This vantage point gave her the ability to track Chuck's movements as well as keep an eye on everyone, so she could follow if he had to chase someone. They had spent the afternoon going over a plan of the entire building, so she had the escape routes memorized.

After twenty minutes of politely – and not-so-politely – turning down the advances of numerous masked partygoers, she heard Chuck's shaky voice in her ear, "Carina, I think I have something. I just flashed."

She brought her wrist up to speak into her own microphone, "What did you see?"

"You couldn't have phrased it any better than that tonight?" Chuck's voice came through the microphone with all its indignation.

"Stay on target, Chuck. The mission, remember?" Carina started scanning the room for both her partner and any threats when she heard the urgency in his tone.

"Well, I just flashed on a mole on one of the guests here. There was something oddly familiar about it, but I can't figure out why I think I've seen that particular mole before…"

"Focus, Chuck. What did the flash tell you?" Carina cut in insistently as she started moving to where she'd seen him last. They had to move fast.

He let out a breath, "Nothing good. I think she's definitely here to meet someone and pass some stolen CIA data," a pause, "she's headed out the southeast exit. I'm following her now."

Just as Carina made to follow Chuck to the exit he mentioned, her vision was obstructed by another flirtatious guest. Every time she tried to cut around him, he slithered over and blocked her view. Frustration mounting, she gave up hope of avoiding a scene and twisted so that the man was behind her. She took a breath and shouted, "Let go of me, you creep! I said no!" at the same time as she swung her fist backward into the man's groin. As he doubled over in pain, she threw her elbow back into his face. Just as all nearby attention was on them, the man hit the floor, out cold. Carina ran for the exit to a smattering of applause.

She caught up to Chuck outside, staring out into the darkness. "Chuck! What's wrong? Where's the Fulcrum agent?"

Chuck didn't move. Carina almost didn't think he had heard her until he whispered, "I lost her."

Moving around in front of him, she saw his face – he had taken off his mask in the chase – was ashen, like he'd seen a ghost.

"No more delays, Chuck. You want to tell me what that was all about last night?" Carina fixed him with a determined look.

Chuck sighed. Carina had been gracious enough to give him space for the evening, but it couldn't last. Her curiosity had finally gotten the better of her at the resort's restaurant as they had lunch the next day. "I flashed on a mole. There were images of dead bodies and a code name, Agent Sandstorm, but no faces."

Carina pursed her lips. "That doesn't give us much to go on. There wasn't anything else in the flash?" She gazed again around the restaurant as their food was delivered. When they were seated, she purposely took the seat backing to the wall, facing the entire rest of the seating area, to keep an eye on their surroundings. _That and so that I will be the only thing Chuck sees, _she thought with a mental smirk.

Disappointed, Chuck shook his head. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it. Staring at the wall above Carina's shoulder, he absently took a sip of his pop, trying to figure out where he'd seen the mole…

"What is it? What's gotten you so out-of-whack since last night?" Carina prodded as she speared a cucumber with her fork.

He shook his head to clear the distractions, then looked into Carina's blue eyes. She was focused on the mission, but there was concern in her gaze as well. She was worried about what freaked him out. _Time to come clean. _"Well, there was something about that mole…"

"You told me about the mole, Chuck. You told me all about what you saw about Sandstorm and her involvement in Fulcrum," her impatience finally got the better of her.

"No," he said, shaking his head and chuckling softly, "not the mole as in a mole inside the agency. I flashed on a mole, a skin imperfection. There was something not in the flash though. I could swear I'd seen that mole before somewhere."

Something about his tone piqued Carina's curiosity even further, "What are you talking about? You flashed on someone's mole you'd seen before? That can't be possible. Lots of people have moles," As she looked at Chuck, something in the restaurant caught her attention. There was a woman at a table across the room that was paying them far closer attention than would normally be warranted, especially since Chuck was facing away from her. Carina tensed as she watched this woman stare at the back of Chuck's head.

"It was…" he trailed off as the blush climbed up his face, "just inside the woman's left breast…I could swear I've seen that exact mole before…"

Chuck kept talking, but Carina's attention was fixed on the woman, who had gotten up and was making her way over to them. Every male – and some female – eye in the restaurant was on her, as she wore an extremely small black string bikini designed to flaunt her every asset. "Um, Chuck? Is there any particular reason why a random woman wearing next to nothing would be staring at you for the last twenty minutes and is now making her way over here?"

His head snapped up, eyes wide and alarmed, just as the brunette reached their table. From behind him, he heard a voice ask, "Chuck? Chuck Bartowski? Is that really you?"

Chuck plastered a strained smile on his face and turned in his chair. _Same hair, same bangs, same glasses, same eyes, same heartless bitch. _"Hi, Jill."

"How funny is this? We _randomly _meet at a resort in the Caribbean after almost six years?" Carina rolled her eyes at the brunette's gushing. The peculiar emphasis on the word randomly didn't escape her notice, but she couldn't tell if Chuck caught it too.

"So funny," Chuck replied slowly.

Jill turned to signal their waitress, and as her body rotated and she reached her hand up, Carina saw Chuck's eyes drop down to Jill's chest. In the process of fixing him with an icy stare, her eyes followed his and then the two turned back to each other with a look of shock. They had each seen the tell-tale mole that Jill's bikini top did nothing to hide. Turning back to confirm, Chuck caught sight of a jagged scar on the back of Jill's hand. The flash hit without warning, though he was able to cover it by faking a sneeze. Carina noticed the flash and cocked an eyebrow at Chuck.

Seeing that Jill was still looking for their absent waitress, he looked at Carina's inquisitive expression and wearily nodded. _Holy shit. Jill's a Fulcrum spy._

When Jill turned back, the two broke their nonverbal conference and smiled at their new companion. "Chuck!" she exclaimed, "I have to get going for a spa appointment, but it's been so long, would you join me for a drink later on? I'd love the opportunity to catch up."

He looked at Carina with a questioning expression, "What do you think, honey? Would you have a problem with that?"

Carina most definitely did have a problem with Chuck seeing his ex-girlfriend again, but this was the perfect chance to get the drop on the traitor. "Not at all, sweetheart. I'll find something to do. You go right ahead," she said with a saccharine smile.

"Great!" Jill bubbled, "Meet me in the bar later on and we'll find somewhere quiet to…talk."

After she left, Carina stood up and led the way to the elevator.

"The Intersect wasn't the only thing giving you a flash today," Carina grumbled as their door closed behind them.

Still caught in the surprise loop of finding out that his ex was not only a spy but also a traitorous spy, Chuck ignored her jealousy. He sat heavily on the bed and put his head in his hands before turning to his partner for help. "How am I going to do this tonight, Carina? I've never gone solo before."

Carina looked at his spooked expression and sighed. She had to put her own jealousy aside for now and help him deal with this situation. "You're going to be fine, and you won't be totally solo here. That other Fulcrum traitor is here somewhere, so I have a plan to handle both of them."

Chuck still looked nervous, so she sat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly. "Trust me, Chuck. You're going to be fine. Don't think of her as the girl that ruined your life six years ago. That's a really long time to be intimidated. You're a spy now. You have the Intersect, and you have me here for backup. She should be scared of you. I believe in you, and you can handle this.

He looked at the faith in her gaze and took a deep breath. "Ok, if you think I can handle this, then I'll do my best. What's this plan you mentioned?

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you sitting in the restaurant today, Chuck," Jill gushed with what Chuck could now tell was false enthusiasm.

"It was really…lucky…Jill, but why can't we stay in the bar? Why do we need to go find somewhere else?" he asked while struggling to keep up as Jill not quite marched him down a hallway.

She huffed. "It was way too noisy back there! I never would have been able to hear you over that commotion. There's a room just over here that will suit our purposes just fine."

So saying, she guided him through a door before closing and locking it behind them. "Now, I have a few things I'd really like to ask you, Chuck Bartowski," she purred as she leaned in.

Avoiding her mouth, he turned his head so that he was speaking directly into her ear. "I'll bet you do, Agent Sandstorm," he growled.

Jill snapped out of their pseudo-embrace. Her overly-friendly façade was long gone, replaced by the dark anger of a traitor caught out in her lie. "Nicely done, Agent Carmichael," she spat, "but we were on to you. There's no way a CIA agent is here randomly, even with your bimbo girlfriend." Her hand whipped inside her jacket and drew out a small pistol. She pointed it directly at his heart, growling, "Get on the floor, now."

The hate in Jill's eyes shook him, but he tried to hide that. With a smile, Chuck shook his head. "I don't think so, Jill. After what you did to me at Stanford, do you think that little popgun you have can scare me? Go right ahead. Shoot me right in the heart, but do me one favor: make it permanent this time."

A growling voice behind him caused Chuck to stand up straight and raise his hands. Jill smiled over Chuck's shoulder at her partner. "No, but I bet he can scare you just fine."

Chuck turned back from looking at the gigantic handgun behind him with a wistful smile. "You never took electrical engineering and most of your physical science was way too early at Stanford."

The brunette looked confused. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "How familiar are you with magnets, Jill?"

As soon as he said the word magnets, the door behind Jill splintered open. She turned in surprise, but the only thing she saw was a fist hitting her forehead. Jill was unconscious before she hit the floor.

Carina looked up from the unconscious brunette on the floor, only to see Jill's partner wrap a beefy arm around Chuck's neck and point his gun right at Chuck's head. Her eyes grew huge, but she raised both of her arms, showing the Fulcrum agent her finger was out of the trigger guard. He slowly backed out of the room, dragging Chuck with him. Carina made sure Jill wasn't moving on the floor before following after Chuck.

She caught up to them in the resort restaurant's kitchen. Chuck was still being held prisoner. Carina rushed in against the wave of restaurant employees rushing out. _Good. At least with them out of the way, there won't be any collateral damage_.

Once she was through the swinging metal doors, she brought her gun up and aimed it at the Fulcrum agent. "Let him go," she ordered in a slow, distinct voice. To Carina's left was the hot grill – still on after the cooks ran out – with Chuck and the Fulcrum goon behind two separate food preparation islands to her two o'clock position.

Chuck nodded enthusiastically, "I think that's a good plan, actually. Why don't you just let me run al…" his voice cut off as his captor jammed the muzzle of his gun against the bottom of his chin.

"No one's going anywhere," the man growled, "and if you don't put _your _gun down, nice and slow, I'll put a bullet straight up the kid's skull."

Carina didn't see any other choice. Chuck had to be kept safe, so for now, they had to play along. She raised her hands, then slowly started lowering her gun to the floor. Just as the gun made contact with the tile, Chuck's eyes got large and he shouted, "Carina, look out!"

A feral shriek sounded to her right. She turned and saw a blur of skin and brown hair rush at her with a huge knife. Carina tensed, then just as Jill reached her, she grabbed at her legs and launched Jill upward with all her force. Jill's shriek of rage turned into a scream of pain as she flipped through the air and landed ass-first onto the grill. "Hey, Chuck! Did you order the rump roast or the chicken breast?" Carina shouted as Jill shot off the grill and ran to the freezer, screaming the whole way. "Chuck?"

He wasn't paying attention to Carina's witticism. Chuck had used the commotion of Jill's attack as a distraction and twisted away from the other Fulcrum agent. He was just running for the shelter of an industrial refrigerator when Carina turned. Chuck's erstwhile captor was bringing his gun up to shoot him. Quickly gauging the distance, she saw that Chuck would never make it in time. Carina brought her gun up and fired faster than she ever had before. Her aim was true; the agent went down with a single bullet through his temple.

After frantically checking his own body for wounds, Chuck looked up and stared at Carina in amazement. "Nice shot, Carina! You saved my life, again."

Carina smirked, masking her inner relief. "You say that like it's a surprise, Chuck! How many times does this make now? Seven? Eight?"

"Only seven, Carina. Taipei doesn't count." He grinned ruefully and reached down to pick up the dead man's gun. In the midst of watching Carina's familiar eye-roll, Chuck saw a shadow behind her. "Carina! Duck!"

He was almost in time. Carina started to drop, only to feel the serrated edge of a knife on her throat. "I should make you climb up onto that grill," Jill hissed, hate dripping from her voice, "but instead I'm just going to kill you."

Chuck brought the gun up and pointed it at Jill. "Let her go, Jill."

"Or what? You'll shoot around her to get to me? You couldn't make that shot if your own life depended on it, Chuck. You're still just a nerd. You always were, and you always will be. Bryce could have made that shot, but not you." Jill tightened her grasp on Carina as she growled at her former boyfriend.

_Oh, Jill. That was a huge mistake, _Carina thought to herself. She saw Chuck's eyes narrow and his muscles tense at the insults.

"This doesn't have to be this way, Jill. You're not like this! You aren't a killer! Let her go and we can talk. You don't have to take this step." Chuck pleaded for Carina's life. He wasn't sure what kind of deal they might be able to arrange, but he had to try to get Carina away from Jill.

"You don't understand anything, Chuck. You never did. There's nothing you can tempt or threaten me with. Fulcrum will take care of me or rescue me if you somehow capture me. I'm that important. Put your gun down and walk into that freezer. If I'm in a good mood, I might call the resort to let them know you're in there, in a day or two of course."

"Carina, remember Dublin," Chuck said through clenched teeth. Her mind flashed back to a similar situation they encountered on a previous mission, only with the roles reversed. She nodded as much as she could with the knife to her throat. Chuck pulled the hammer back on his gun as Carina pulled her right knee up and forward. With a deep breath, she drove it backward into Jill's knee, snapping the joint and its tendons with a loud _POP_. Jill shrieked in pain again as Carina dropped to the floor.

Jill's fury gave her the strength to ignore the pain in her knee. She brought the knife up, intent on striking a killing blow to the redhead on the floor in front of her. Carina saw only the point of the knife and the blazing hatred in Jill's eyes. Certain she was about to die, her life flashed before her eyes just as Jill's arms started down. Chuck had never killed anyone on a mission. He preferred using a tranq pistol instead of a real gun, always pointing out the value of later interrogation. He never…

Three shots rang out in quick succession. Jill's body fell backward onto the floor, lifeless. Carina scrambled to her feet and saw two holes drilled straight through the woman's heart and one through her forehead. She turned to Chuck and saw him standing with his arms extended, holding the pistol. His eyes were wide and staring. She ran around to his side and pushed his arms down, pointing the gun at the floor before taking it from his nerveless hands and flipping the safety active.

"Chuck! Chuck look at me. Are you ok?" She took his face in both her hands and forced him to look her in the eye.

"I…I…I killed her! Carina, I just shot my ex-girlfriend!"

"NO! You saved my life! You didn't kill your ex-girlfriend, you saved your friend! You have to think that way," she saw the guilt and remorse in his eyes as she paused, "don't do this! Don't go down that road. I've seen too many people feel too much guilt after their first kill. Trust me, Chuck! If you hadn't shot her, she would have killed me. I'm alive right now because of you!"

Looking up, Chuck saw the honesty and earnestness in her gaze. He started to calm down, and as his breathing returned to normal, his hands stopped shaking. "Thanks, Carina."

She smiled at him and patted his cheek. "Let me handle the cleaners. Why don't you go up to our room and try to calm down a bit? I shouldn't be down here that long, and then I'll meet you back upstairs and we'll go from there, ok?"

Chuck smiled his thanks and wrapped Carina in a hug that went on for a few seconds longer than she expected. She pulled back in surprise, but he was already on his way out of the kitchen. Carina fished for her cell phone out of her pocket and called for a cleaner team, wondering all the while what was going through her partner's mind after his first kill.

A cautious Carina pushed open the door to her suite and peered inside before fully entering the room. The click of the door closing echoed through an eerily silent entryway. "Chuck?" she questioned the emptiness.

"In h-here Ca- Carina," she heard a stammering voice call out. _Uh-oh._

Carina walked quietly into the suite, fearing the source of his stammer. Sure enough, Chuck was lounging on the king-sized bed, but his head was cocked at a strange angle and his legs were spread wide. Several empty minibar bottles littered the bedspread. _Oh, Chuck. _

"Hi, Chuck. Started the party without me, eh?" She worked to keep her voice upbeat, knowing the thoughts going through his head.

"Too many th-thoughts, running through my noggin. Just too much. I needed to stop thinking so fast," he started to ramble, "I just wanted to stop the thinking, you know? It was like a flash, but w-worse because it was j-just a repeat of the…the shot. I saw her go down; saw the life leave her eyes. I just needed to stop thinking about that, you know? I needed to make the thinking stop, so I started the party early. Think the DEA will spring for the minibar?" He looked up with such pain and agony in his eyes that Carina's heart broke, though her training kept the reaction hidden.

She slid next to him on the bed and took his current bottle out of his hands. "I want you to listen to me very carefully, Chuck Bartowski," when his drunken gaze moved back up to hers, she fixed him with a steady gaze that left him no room to avoid her eyes, "You are NOT a killer. You took her life, but you did it to save mine. She was going to kill me if you didn't do something. Killers don't kill to save lives, they kill for only the sick pleasure they get in taking life. You are NOT a killer. You are a lifesaver, literally. You are MY lifesaver. Do you believe me?" Carina punctuated this last question by taking her hands and grasping his cheeks, forcing him to see her seriousness.

When Chuck looked in her eyes, the affection he saw dissolved the self-loathing binge he'd been on ever since he got back to the room. For the first time, he saw Carina shooting Jill's Fulcrum contact, instead of himself shooting Jill. Carina saved his life too. _If it wasn't for this beautiful woman sitting here trying to make me feel better, I would have died today. _

Carina caressed his cheeks with her thumbs, and as the silence dragged on, something in their eye contact crackled. The emotion was almost palpable. Later on, neither would remember what the catalyst was. It might have been a blink, or a hitch in breathing, but in a moment, they had gone from silently staring into each other's eyes to passionately crushing their mouths against one another, as if trying to absorb the other person's essence. All the stress, tension, and adrenaline bleeding off from their near-death experiences culminated in that one effort. Carina momentarily felt guilty for possibly taking advantage of a less-than sober friend – whom she'd been trying to get in bed for months – but she rationalized that away at the urgency in his actions. It was, after all, her shirt that went flying first.

The sun's first rays cracked through the shade, falling on Carina's face and waking her up. _Damn sunshine. How the hell did the window get open? _She muttered a curse and cracked one eye open, noticing her bra hanging from the curtain rod. Apparently in the frenzy, it had cracked the blinds when it flew to its current perch.

_How the hell am I going to handle this? _Carina wondered as she looked around the room at the evidence of their night of life-affirming passion. The last night had been…_amazing_, she thought ruefully. Chuck would probably agree, but knowing his history, she guessed that he would probably want this to become a regular thing, with all the trappings – and bindings –of relationships. She wouldn't mind the regular sex, but being a girlfriend…she shuddered at the implications.

Chuck started stirring at her movement. She felt his body tense at the unfamiliar setting and surroundings. His eyes opened slowly, looking down at her first before looking around the room. Noticing her face looking up from its position on his chest, his face broke into an ear-to-ear grin. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, voice still raspy from sleep.

"Hello, handsome," she smiled back guardedly.

Chuck almost saw her walls go back up and mentally sighed. She was already pulling away, but he had to at least try. "So, about last night,"

Carina got up, pulling the covers away with her as she retreated into the bathroom. "Yeah, that was really something, wasn't it?" she called out, "Where did you learn to do that thing with your stomach and the Jell-O?"

The memory clicked. "You know, I have no idea!" He laughed hollowly. "So, I guess we should sort of talk about what this means, right?"

"Means for what?" Carina asked, poking her head out of the bathroom and looking at him quizzically.

"For us. Last night was incredible. I don't think I've ever felt more connected to another human being. I just thought since we did…all of that…last night, that maybe it could lead to something…more," Chuck trailed off, looking at his hands instead of her.

Carina's head popped back into the bathroom, before continuing the conversation in an oddly disembodied way. "Oh Chuck. Last night was…amazing," she sighed out, "for me too, but does it have to be anything more than one night of release? We were both running on pure adrenaline last night, and with the bleed-off of saving each other's lives, it's only natural that we celebrated life after facing death together," she finished in the bathroom and walked out – fully clothed – to sit on the bed next to Chuck.

His head was down, refusing to look her in the eye. "So that's it? We shared that life-changing night and it's back to the way things were?"

She reached out and lifted his chin with a finger. Their entire future partnership hung on Chuck's understanding and acceptance of what she was about to tell him. "No. We shared one life-affirming night, celebrating our continued existence entirely thanks to each other, and now we go back to a friendship with a deeper understanding of who each other is and who we are to ourselves. This life isn't good for relationships or love, Chuck, and I'm not wired that way either. You were amazing last night, and if the opportunity ever…arises," she said with a salacious wink, "again, you can bet I'll jump on with both legs, but I'm not looking for anything steady."

Seeing the truth in her eyes, Chuck decided that he'd rather keep her in his life as a friend and partner and occasional lover – though he wasn't sure if he'd be willing to give her another piece of himself like the night before again – than push the issue and lose her entirely. So, he nodded, but in spirit of compromise, he pushed for one more thing, "Can I at least kiss you one more time?"

Carina smiled. "Of course. You're the best kisser I've ever met," she smiled, genuinely happy that he understood and accepted her. She leaned in and they shared one last tender, affectionate kiss, but each knew in their hearts that since the kind of passion that enflamed them the night before is rare and fleeting, this kiss was also a farewell kiss.

**P.N.2…**Here's the perfect chance to let JML know what you thought about this latest addition to _Sarah Walker:Broken Beyond Repair._ Also, if you think you might have a chapter to add to this story…send me a PM or email.


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